


Ever The Same

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, MarKian, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sleepovers, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark finds a broken Kian in the bushes on his way home from school, he has no way of knowing his life will suddenly be fraught with pain, fear... and first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The streets of Sligo were dark and deserted, yet Mark couldn’t help but hum cheerfully to himself. It had been a good day. Sure, he had had detention, and yes that wanker in the year above had managed to get in a good kidney punch between classes, but all of that paled in comparison to the good things. Or one good thing, rather.

He’d finally gotten up the courage to ask Sarah O’Grady out. And she’d said yes. And not only that, she’d said that yes, she’d love to.

Yeah, not just ‘yeah, why not?’ or ‘okay’, but those three wonderful words that rang through his head and made the rest of his shit day completely bearable. ‘I’d love to’.

Of course that had led to him fantasising in class, hearing her words over and over in his head, leading to him smiling randomly and paying absolutely no attention. So it was no surprise that Kennedy had given him detention, though he did suppose that two hours of lines was a bit excessive. It was winter, and it was already dark as he walked home, the last glow of twilight threatening to disappear any minute. He pulled his school jacket tighter around himself

He crossed the street and turned a corner, headed for home, his shadow growing and shrinking under the streetlamps which had turned on not five minutes ago. He didn’t mind walking Sligo at night that much, they were a small town, but there was still always that chance of some loony jumping out of the bushes and grabbing him, stealing his money and beating him up. Though, when he thought about it he probably had about the same chances of that here as he did at school.

Still, he quickened his steps.

There was a sound from nearby bushes, a rustling of leaves, and he jumped, laughing at himself when he realised it was probably a bird or some kind of small animal. He paused, his curiosity getting the better of him, and glanced into the bushes along the side of the road, wondering if maybe he could see what it was.

There was that noise again, the sounds of leaves shifting, but then there was something else, something that sounded like a low sob. Mark’s ears pricked up, and he moved warily closer, hoping someone wasn’t hurt or something. He was no good at dealing with situations like that.

He crouched down a safe distance away, just able to make out a huddled figure among the tangled branches and leaves.

“Hello?” He asked cautiously, and watched the figure freeze. “You alright?”

There was some more rustling, and then some silence. Then the boy in the bushes spoke, his voice hoarse and quiet.

“Are they gone?”

“Who?” Mark asked, looking around himself just in case, then up into the tree. Which was stupid, really, because it wasn’t like Spiderman was going to swing down and attack him.

The boy stared back, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Then there was movement again as he crawled forward a little. Mark hissed in a breath. The boy was a blonde, but all the hair on the left side was matted down and dark with the blood that had dried down the side of his face.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Don’t worry, just leave me.”

“But…” Mark moved closer, kneeling down near the bushes, not really sure what he was doing. “You’re hurt.”

The blonde closed his eyes, and soft sob left his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut in obvious pain as he shifted. He was shivering, and Mark realised he wasn’t wearing a jacket.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not…” Mark pulled aside some of the branches, wincing when he saw a deep black bruise seeping out from under the boy’s short-sleeved school shirt. The same school as Mark, yet Mark couldn’t remember seeing him before.

“What’s your name?”

The boy looked at him for a moment, before hanging his head, looking down into his own curled-up knees. “Kian.” He said softly. The name didn’t ring a bell.

“Hi.” Mark said awkwardly. “I’m Mark.” He reached into the bushes a little further, pushing aside branches.

“Hi.” Kian said quietly, hissing when Mark touched his shoulder. “Ow.”

“What happened to you?”

Kian shrugged. “The usual. I was just walking home and…” He coughed suddenly, crying out softly when his body moved, and Mark was shocked to see blood on his palm when he moved it away from his mouth. “They jumped me.” There was determination in his voice, but when Mark looked up his face was filled with fear and shame. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing more blood into the caked mass on the side of his cheek.

“Can you move?”

Kian chuckled bitterly. “Now there’s a question.”

Mark went to touch him again, but Kian recoiled, pressing back into the bushes. Mark jumped, not having expected that reaction.

“Don’t.” Kian whispered, not meeting Mark’s eyes. “I don’t… don’t like people touching me.” He looked at his own knees again, tucking his hands between them.

“Sorry.”

Mark looked around himself, hoping there would be someone to help. But there was no-one. They were on the outskirts now, outside of the main town and into the more agricultural areas. Behind him was a small field, and the houses that were nearby were both at least twenty metres on either side of him, and he could hardly leave Kian alone.

“Where do you live?”

Kian shook his head. “Too far. They chased me and I…” He looked around. “Can’t go home, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Mam won’t like it. If I’ve been fighting.”

“But you haven’t been…” Mark was cut off by Kian’s shrug.

“Just leave me, okay? I’ll be fine. Forget about it.”

A part of Mark tugged at him, telling him to take the easy way out and do what Kian said, go home to his nice warm house and forget about all this. But he could hardly leave someone alone and hurt, could he? That was ridiculous.

“No.” He shook his head, standing up and taking a couple of steps back, crouching down in the middle of the street and keeping his ears pricked for any approaching cars. “I’ll stay here, if you like, but you’ve gotta come out.” He put a hand out. “You can come with me, if you like. I’ll take you to the doctor.”

“Don’t want a doctor.” Kian glared at him. “Fuck off, will you?”

“No.” Mark said stubbornly. There was a frightened glint in Kian’s eyes, despite his words. “You can come home then. With me. Have a shower and…” He bit his lip. His parents weren’t home this week, were away for the week while his brothers were at a camp-out with the primary school. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having someone he didn’t know in the house when he was by himself, but at the same time it did save him having to answer any awkward questions. Anyway, they’d be home the tomorrow if anything happened.

Kian was still staring at him, and he smiled. Something told him that Kian wouldn’t hurt him. He knew instinctively, which was a very strange feeling. Maybe it was empathy – hew knew more than anyone what it was like to be bullied – but there was something more to it.

“You can sleep in my room, if you can’t go home.” Mark attempted. “And I can make dinner. I can’t cook, but I think there’s some instant macaroni in the cupboard and maybe I can make sandwiches or whatever…” He trailed off. “Can you at least come out of the bushes?”

Kian put a hand over his face, sighing, and it was a long moment before he began to move. Mark let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

Kian crawled out slowly, wincing, and Mark was horrified to see the blood on the front of his shirt and around his nose. When Kian stood up, Mark had to rush over and help him as Kian staggered slowly on legs that shook.

“Don’t… touch me.” Kian managed. Mark let go carefully and stepped back, but the instant he did, Kian’s knees began to buckle, and he grabbed him again, Kian’s low moan telling him he’d put his grip around a painful spot. Kian was missing a shoe. His skin was ice-cold. Mark slid off his own jacket, slipping it around Kian’s shoulders and trying to ignore the biting cold that stung at him. He wasn’t the one that needed warmth now.

“Can you put your arm around my shoulders?” Mark asked, bending down slightly to let the smaller boy get his arm up high enough. Kian was a lot shorter than him, and he had to strain to even lift his arm, which was weak and bruised despite how muscular it looked. Not body-builder muscular, but strong. Kian whimpered, but didn’t speak.

“Do you think you can walk?” Mark asked again, taking a step forward, and feeling Kian struggle to follow him.

“Yeah.” Kian nodded. “Go slow.”

Mark attempted conversation as they walked, but it didn’t really take hold so they drifted into silence. They had to stop every few seconds, Kian’s face almost white from pain or exhaustion. And once they had to stop while Kian threw up in the bushes. Mark was very relieved to see no blood in his vomit.

They carried on, moving slowly, and it was almost forty minutes before they reached Mark’s house, a trip that should have taken only ten minutes. In that time, though, he did manage to find out that Kian was in the same year as him, even in a few of the same classes. But no matter how hard Mark thought he couldn’t come up with anything more than a half-remembered glimpse to mark Kian’s previous existence.

Once inside, Mark helped Kian into the kitchen and into the closest chair, watching the smaller boy wince while he sat, and bite his lip. Mark pulled another chair over and sat in front of him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” Kian coughed, wincing again. “Ow.”

“Do you think you can have a shower? Or a bath, maybe, if you can’t stand properly?”

Kian closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Mark kept his distance, leaning back in his chair, not wanting to crowd Kian. Kian obviously had some sort of problem with physical contact and Mark didn’t want to upset him when he was as hurt as he was. Every movement seemed to be hurting Kian, and Mark wondered how bad the damage actually was. He was covered in bruises and blood, and that was just the areas that weren’t hidden under his school uniform.

“Maybe if you run a bath, I can…” He swallowed, then coughed hard, and Mark saw a tear run down his cheek.

“That’s quite a cough you’ve got there.” Mark said quietly, almost reaching out to the smaller boy before catching himself.

“Bastard caught me in the neck.” Kian rubbed his throat, and Mark felt quiet rage well up in his own. Whoever these bastards were, what they had done to Kian was unforgivable.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian swallowed again, still rubbing his throat. “I don’t think he meant to do it. Just… his elbow got in the way.”

“Who was it?”

Kian shook his head, beginning to push himself out of the chair. “Doesn’t matter.” And Mark was so distracted by the wobble in his legs that he forgot to follow that question up. Instead he stood, moving closer in case Kian needed to lean on him. Kian seemed to be managing okay, though.

“Bathroom’s upstairs.” Mark said softly, putting his arm out for Kian to grab if he needed to. “Do you think you can make it?”

Kian didn’t reply, just let Mark lead him toward the stairs. The first step was accompanied by a soft cry, but Kian gritted his teeth and kept moving while Mark stayed a step behind him, there in case Kian fell. By the time they reached the top, Kian seemed to be moving okay, but he was panting as though he’d run a marathon and there were tears of effort streaming down his cheeks.

Mark guided him along to the bathroom, not commenting on Kian’s obvious pain, knowing instinctively that Kian wouldn’t appreciate it. He was stubborn, Mark would give him that, but now was not the most opportune moment to express that particular character trait. Mark had the sudden, barely controllable urge to pull Kian close and hold him.

Kian was still wearing one shoe, and when he sat down on the lid of toilet Mark helped him remove it, not wanting Kian to try to bend over. Then he put the plug in the bath and ran the water, carefully adjusting the temperature to make it as comfortable as he could.

“Do you want me to go out?”

Kian nodded, so Mark left the room. Seconds later, though, he heard his name called, and he rushed back in.

Kian was crying.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mark asked in a panic. Kian shook his head.

“I… I can’t get my shirt off. Hurts too much.” Kian ran a hand over his face, brushing his hand over the tears that were falling. Tears of frustration, Mark guessed when he saw the embarrassed scowl on Kian’s face.

“Are you sure you don’t need the hosp…”

“Yes! I’m fucking sure!” Kian snapped. His shirt was undone, and when he shifted it flapped open, revealing a broad chest dark with bruising. He must have caught Mark staring. “It looks worse than it is.” Kian said, pulling his shirt shut. “I swear. It’s been worse than this. I’m fine.”

“It’s been worse than…?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kian interrupted.

“Okay.” Mark ran his hand awkwardly through his hair, not sure what to do. While he hardly regretted helping Kian, this was hardly the easiest help he’d ever given. Kian was so defensive and stubborn it was proving almost impossible to be of any use. But then Kian pushed himself up, holding his arms behind him.

“Please?” Kian said softly, and his voice sounded so lost and helpless Mark had to reach out and carefully slide the shirt off his shoulders, pulling the sleeves gently down over his wrists and off. There was a large purpling bruise on the left shoulder, and another smaller one on the right hip. Kian must have heard the sympathetic hiss he let out, because he turned his head.

“Does it look bad?”

“No.” Mark lied. What use would telling the truth be? Kian wouldn’t see a doctor, and he didn’t want to worry the smaller boy. “A bit bruised, but you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” Kian mumbled. Mark reached out and turned the taps off, stopping the bath just short from overflowing, and reached his hand into the water to pull the plug out, letting a little water drain before replacing it.

“Do you want me to stay?” Mark asked again, and this time Kian paused before shaking his head. Mark spotted a delicate blush spreading over his face, what parts of it weren’t covered in blood anyway.

“Shall I help you off with your clothes before I go?”

Again, Kian paused. Again, Kian nodded. Mark pulled off his socks, knowing it would hurt too much for Kian to bend over. Then he helped him up.

“Sorry about this.” Kian mumbled softly, undoing the buttons of his school trousers.

“That’s alright.” Mark replied. Kian managed to get his trousers undone, and slid them over his hips. Mark pulled them the rest of the way down, letting Kian lean on his shoulder while he stepped out of them. He smiled, standing up. “Okay to do your underwear?”

“Yeah.” Kian nodded, the blush worsening. “I’ll… I’ll be okay.”

Mark nodded. “I’ll be right outside the door, if you need me. Just call.”

Once in the hallway, Mark sighed, leaning against the wall, feeling utterly exhausted. He didn’t understand what he was doing, letting someone he didn’t know into the house, going to all this trouble. The smart thing would have been to call an ambulance and then go home alone. But there was something about Kian, something fragile and earnest that Mark couldn’t ignore. He seemed so delicate. Easily broken, despite his stubbornness. How on earth could someone do this to him?

…there was a soft whimper from the bathroom, and Mark tensed. Then a splash. Silence…

Mark clenched his fists, anger welling up inside him again. He didn’t understand. How could someone target him? There seemed to be nothing wrong with Kian, nothing that would make him easy game for bullies, or whoever they’d been. He wasn’t overweight, he didn’t wear glasses, he didn’t seem overly obnoxious in any way that Mark could see. He was attractive, but not conspicuously, and he seemed strong enough, was quite muscular and athletic. Maybe he was in trouble with someone, maybe that was it. Maybe he was part of… of a gang, or something.

He snorted. He’d been watching far too much American TV.

There was a soft sob from the bathroom, then another, which developed into a continuous weeping. Mark kept his distance, resisting the urge to burst inside and see what was wrong. Instead, he knocked gently, hearing a splash in response.

“Kian? Are you okay in there?”

“F…f…fine!” Kian managed, his voice thick. “Ju… ju… just cleaning up!”

Mark stepped back, leaning against the wall again. God, Kian was stubborn.

Not long after, maybe ten minutes, there was a loud splashing, and he heard feet on the tiles. Kian had stopped crying a few minutes ago, and Mark had listened to the noises of him taking a bath with a watchful ear. He’d felt a little voyeuristic, but he supposed that was forgivable when someone was as hurt as Kian.

“There’s towels in the cupboard above the sink!” He called out, and heard the latch of the cupboard click open a few moments later. “Don’t worry about emptying the bath!” He added as an afterthought, not wanting Kian to try to bend over. “I’ll get it!”

Kian emerged a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. Mark smiled, averting his eyes from the bruising covering Kian’s chest and arms. He looked much better. He had a handsome face, marred by only a small cut along his hairline. Mark couldn’t believe how much that had bled. His cheek was a little bruised, but nothing drastic that wouldn’t fade over the next few days. There was a small scar on his cheek.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” Kian attempted a small smile, but it crumbled. His eyes were still red, threatening tears. He sniffed, then squared his chin, looking Mark in the eye. “Thanks for… you know.”

“That’s fine.”

After a moment, Mark realised they’d been stood in awkward silence, right in the middle of the upstairs hall. He shook himself, then smiled when a small smirk spread over Kian’s lips.

“So… you want food?”

“I don’t want to be trouble…”

“No trouble.” Mark shrugged. “Come downstairs and I’ll…” He paused when Kian winced, remembering that stairs probably weren’t the easiest thing right now. “Actually, why don’t we have dinner in my room? My parents aren’t home, so they can’t yell at me.” He tried to keep his voice as flippant as he could, and Kian seemed to appreciate it.

“That’s your idea of rebellion?” Kian snorted.

“Good catholic boy, me.” Mark nodded humbly before giving Kian a cheeky wink. “But you have to promise you won’t tell them.”

“I won’t.” Kian said solemnly, before laughing. It was weak, but honest, and Mark couldn’t help but grin at him.

He settled Kian on his bed, kicking a few things out of the way so he could make it across the room without tripping. His room really was an utter state, but he hadn’t known he was having people over. He gave Kian some of his old pyjamas, tossed Kian’s uniform in the wash, emptied the bath, then went looking for food.

Ten minutes later they were sat with bowls of shoddily made instant macaroni on their laps, the smell of re-hydrated cheese thick in the air. Kian was eating steadily, making cute little gasping noises between mouthfuls.

“So what happened?”

Kian paused, then shovelled another mouthful in.

“Dunno. I get picked on a lot.” He pushed another mouthful in, as though it would take back his words. He was looking defensively into his bowl, spots of colour high in his cheeks. “They managed to corner me on the way home. Tried to run, but…” He shrugged. “I’d been there about an hour when you came along.”

Mark shivered, hating the thought of Kian sat alone in the cold. In pain.

“Is it someone at school?”

Kian shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Mark sighed. Kian was getting more obstinate by the second. “What about your parents? Do they know?”

Kian shook his head. “Don’t think they’d care much. They say I’ve been fighting and then… I get the belt. It’s better for them not to know.” He paused, thought written all over his forehead. “Actually, do you mind if I ring them? I don’t want them worrying.”

“No, of course not.” Mark assured him. He glanced at Kian’s bowl, which was empty. His own was still half full. “Do you want me to take that? I’ll grab the phone on the way through.”

Kian handed the bowl over, and Mark took it downstairs. Kian’s situation was getting worse and worse by the second. To have to worry about this kind of thing at school, and then worry about getting it at home… Mark couldn’t even fathom that. For all the torment he received at school, he could barely think what it would be like not to have some kind of comfort at home, a soft place to fall when things got bad. To not know that someone was there for you.

He took the phone back upstairs. Kian nodded his thanks and dialled, while Mark waited outside the room, trying not to listen in.

“Mam. Hi. Yeah, I know, I just lost track of time… yeah, it’s just we have this assignment due and I was working on it with Mark, from school… I know, I’m sorry. But he says I can stay the night if I like. We’ll probably be working late anyway, it’s a pretty big assignment… yeah, no they’re fine with it. Mark’s mam offered… yeah, I will. Okay. Bye.” There was a beep when he hung up the phone, and Mark re-entered the room. Kian looked up.

“Listening in?”

Mark felt himself blush. “No. I mean… well, not actively. I was just…”

“It’s okay.” Kian chuckled, his face suddenly less troubled than it had been. In a simple moment, all his cares had fallen away, even if they came back the instant he stopped laughing. Mark smiled. Kian smiled back. Then he yawned.

“Are you tired? Do you need to go to bed?” Mark fussed. Kian smiled, covering his mouth.

“I am a bit tired, yeah. God, that’s pathetic when it’s not even seven o’clock, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine. You’ve had a… a hard day.” Mark reached over, nudging aside Kian so he could pull the blankets back. “You can sleep here. I’ll go and get my sleeping bag, and it’ll be like a camp out. Yeah?"

“I can take the sleeping bag.” Kian said. “It’s your house and I’ve already been a bother…”

“Don’t even think about it.” Mark said sternly. “Get into bed, and I’ll be back in a moment. You need anything?”

Kian shook his head, snuggling down into the bed, and was still there a few minutes later when Mark came back in, having managed to drag his old sleeping bag out of the back of the linen closet. He laid it out on the floor, along with a pillow he’d stolen from his brother’s room, and settled down on top of it. Kian looked down at him.

“You sure you’re okay down th…”

“I’m fine.” Mark reassured him, reaching out a hand and touching Kian’s, surprised when Kian didn’t flinch away. Instead, fingers entwined with his for a moment, pulling away after a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you.” Kian whispered. Mark lay down too, somehow not scared to be left vulnerable in his sleep. Not with Kian around.

“Go to sleep.” Mark murmured, cuddling into his pillow and yawning, the events of the afternoon having left him exhausted. “I’ll be here.”

He fully intended to stay awake, watch over Kian, and for awhile he did. But by the time Kian was snoring gently Mark’s eyes were heavy, and he lay down, not able to stand it anymore. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, wondering how he could feel so close to this boy he’d just met.


	2. Chapter 2

A soft knock at Mark’s door woke him up the next morning, and he sat up, blinking sleepily. The clock on his nightstand said nine-thirty. He yawned, wondering for a moment why he was on the floor. A hand was hanging over the side of his bed, and he smiled, remembering Kian. He ran a hand over his face, standing silently and going over to his bedroom door.

“Hey mam.” He said softly, going out and closing the door. They had just come home, apparently. He could hear his dad banging around downstairs with the suitcases.

“Morning, love.” She glanced at the closed door. “You have a friend over?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Sorry, he’s still asleep. We had an assignment to work on.” He yawned, covering his mouth. “It got late so I figured he could stay.”

“As long as it’s alright with his folks.” She whispered back. Mark nodded, not sure why he wasn’t telling the truth. He knew she’d explode if he told her he’d invited someone back that he didn’t know, yes, but he also didn’t miss the hint of hope in her face that he might have a friend. He didn’t want to disappoint her. He knew she worried about him, and how much he got picked on.

“It’s fine.” Mark said softly. “Are Barry and Colin back yet?”

“No.” She replied. “We’re going to go pick them up from the school in about half an hour.” She glanced at the door. “Do you boys need me to make breakfast before we go?”

“It’s fine.” Mark put his hand back on the knob. “I’ll put something together.” He laughed at her look of shock. “I can cook, you know.”

She snorted, turning back toward the stairs. “Just don’t burn the kitchen down.”

Mark pulled a face at her, pushing back into the bedroom, and started when he came face-to-face with Kian, who was sitting up on the bed, looking at him.

“Ehm… hi.” Mark attempted, closing the door behind him.

“Hi.” Kian said softly. “Ehm…” He looked at Mark, apparently as at a loss for words as Mark was.

“Well…” Mark shrugged. “Mam and Dad are home, but they’re going out again soon…” He glanced at his own hands. “Do you want breakfast?”

“It’s fine. I really should be getting home…” Kian went to stand, moving stiffly, and let out a quiet groan.

“You feeling okay?”

“Sore, but I’m better.” Kian rubbed his neck. “Thanks for… well, you know. Last night.” He looked down at the borrowed pyjamas he was wearing. “It was really… I mean, nice of you…” He shrugged. “I better get going.”

“Yeah, I…” Mark nodded. “Uh… is it okay for you to wear your uniform home? I washed it for you…”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I might look like an eejit, but…” Kian snorted.

Half an hour later they were walking toward Kian’s house. Kian had insisted he could go alone, but Mark had hardly been willing to let him walk on his own after what had happened the night before. It was safer in the day, of course, but Mark refused to take the risk. They had sat in awkward silence in Mark’s bedroom until Mark’s parents had gone out again, not wanting any questions about how bruised and battered Kian was.

Mark snuck a glance at Kian as they walked. Kian looked so much more confident in the light of day, but there was something breakable under the surface, hurt and fragile. He held himself too straight, too confidently for it to be anything but a façade. Again Mark wondered at the fact that he’d never seen Kian in class. They didn’t live too far apart from each other, they were in the same classes… Kian was even on the football team, yet Mark couldn’t call up a memory of him. The name seemed to ring a bell, but that was all.

“What?” Kian raised an eyebrow, having caught him staring. Mark blushed and looked away.

“Nothing.”

Kian stopped, putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mark started walking again. “I was just thinking. I don’t remember seeing you in class or anything.”

Kian bit his lip, then shrugged. “That’s alright. I don’t really hang out with people in our class. Usually sit in the back of the class, reading or doodling or something. I try to be inconspicuous, I think, stop myself from getting picked on. Doesn’t really work, but…” He shook his head. “I hang out with Shane Filan a lot. You know him? He’s the year above us.”

Mark nodded. He knew Shane. His family owned the Carlton Café in town and he was often in the musicals and things. He had an amazing singing voice. A bit of a ladies man too, if the rumours were correct. He seemed friendly enough.

“I sit behind you in French.” Kian said softly, and smiled nervously when Mark looked at him in surprise. “You’re good in that. I mean, you always get the right answers…” He shrugged. “I’m not very good at French.”

“I’m sorry…” Mark managed, not sure what he was sorry for. For overlooking someone like Kian, maybe, who seemed to be worth more than most of the people in his classes put together. For overlooking a shy, very sweet boy who had been having such a hard time of it. Sometimes he’d felt nonexistent, as though nobody knew him. But it was the one person who had noticed him that he’d overlooked. He put a hand on Kian’s shoulder, feeling the smaller boy flinch slightly, and remembered Kian’s aversion to touch. He pulled his hand away.

“Why did you help me?” Kian’s voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t even know me.”

“You looked like you needed help.”

“Noble.” Kian stopped walking all of a sudden, and Mark drew to a halt beside him, in front of a small house. It was an average looking house, the same as most of the others in Sligo; white with a blue door and windows. He could hear someone, a woman, yelling inside. “This is me.” Kian said. “Thanks for walking me.”

“That’s fine.” Mark shuffled his feet nervously. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah.” Kian smiled, and for a moment he didn’t look so sad and scared. And in that same moment, Mark wanted to reach out and hug him. “Maybe… maybe you want to hang out at school one day? We could have lunch. I mean, you don’t really sit with anyone and I don’t think Shane would mind if…”

“I’d like that.” Mark smiled back, and Kian grinned at him, before wincing.

“Shouldn’t move my face that much yet.” He chuckled, touching his bruised cheek gingerly. “Well…”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Have a good weekend…”

“You too.” Kian grinned at him. “Better go. See you Monday.”

With that he disappeared into the house, leaving Mark feeling very confused. But happy, somehow.

Humming, he headed for home.

 

*

 

Mark turned at the sound of his name, having only just heard it over the constant rumble of the cafeteria. Cutlery and plates clattered against each other, but Mark had been drowning it out as usual, making his way on autopilot with his tray of food to the table in the corner.

When he looked, Kian was sitting a few tables away, a tray in front of him. Mark smiled, going over and feeling his heart skip an unexpected beat.

“Hiya.” Mark said, putting his tray down and sliding into the chair Kian had gestured to, glancing quickly at the blond. Kian’s face was still bruised and sore looking, though the marks weren’t disfiguring in any way. There was a spot of purple above his right cheek, and a yellowing bruise on his chin, but in reality his face hadn’t really received much damage in the first place. “How are you feeling? Still sore?”

Kian shrugged. “A bit. Mostly just stiff when I walk. But hey, it’ll clear up soon, yeah? No fuss.”

Mark shook his head, unable to believe Kian could take that attitude only a few days after he’d been attacked so viciously. He wondered how often Kian got beaten up, to take such a blasé attitude, whether he really didn’t care, or if it was a defence mechanism.

Kian put his hand on Mark’s arm. “Don’t. I’m fine. Really.” He shifted in his seat. “Just… y’know, sorry about the way I acted. I was a bit of a prick to you.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be used to it.” Mark argued, not liking how helpless he felt. Why was he so invested in this boy he hardly knew?

“Yeah, well. Nothing I can do about it, I suppose. They’ll get bored eventually.”

“But you could end up in hospital. Or worse!”

Kian mumbled something Mark could have sworn was ‘not such a bad idea’. But before he could chase it up, Kian was saying his name tentatively, long dark lashes shielding embarrassed blue eyes.

“Mark?” Kian looked up cautiously. “You won’t tell anyone, right? About last night?”

Mark shook his head. “Of course not. Not if you don’t want me to.”

Kian nodded, his face displaying his gratitude without him needing to speak. For not the first time, Mark wanted to reach over and hug him. It was a strange feeling – he couldn’t remember feeling physically affectionate to anyone that wasn’t a family member. Even Sarah…

He felt himself blush when he thought of her. She’d been wiped from his memory during the ordeal of Friday night, but once Kian had been out of his field of vision, she had entered his mind again.

He obsessed over her, he could admit that. Everything about her was perfect. She was beautiful and sexy and sweet and funny… any guy would be crazy not to want her. And she was going to go out with him. Next Saturday.

But back to Kian. He looked up at the blonde, who was picking steadily at the usual bad school dinner. Mark could see the cut on his forehead, now, where he had bled so heavily the other night. It was nothing but a small, twisted scab now, almost concealed by his hairline. There was probably some sort of metaphor in that, but Mark couldn’t think what it was.

Kian looked up, over Mark’s shoulder, and smiled a blindingly brilliant smile.

“Shane!”

“Ki!” Mark turned to watch the brunette wave and stride over, sinking into the chair between them and clapping Kian on the shoulder. He looked politely at Mark, waiting for an introduction.

“Oh sorry.” Kian smiled and gestured between the two boys. “Shane, this is Mark, he’s in my year. Mark.” He pointed back to the smaller brunette. “Shane.”

“Hi Mark.” Shane smiled at him, reaching out a hand, and they shook. Mark liked Shane’s handshake; it was firm and confident. Friendly.

“Hi.”

Shane nodded, giving him an odd little wink. Then he turned back to Kian. “Now what the fuck happened to you?” He exclaimed in a whisper, reaching out to touch Kian’s forehead, fingers brushing the scab Mark had noticed. Kian pursed his lips and shrugged. Shane sighed. “Did they…?” Shane glanced warily at Mark. “…I mean, did you get beat up again?”

“It’s really nothing.” Kian pushed Shane’s hands away, looking back into his meal. Mark saw a blush rise in his cheeks. “Really. Don’t worry.”

“You’re an eejit, Egan.” Shane said, fondness infecting his voice, and Mark noticed that, while Kian had pushed Shane’s hands away in frustration, he hadn’t been as violently as averse to touch as he had been the other night. “Didn’t your mam pitch a fit?”

“Nah. Stayed at Mark’s, didn’t I?” For a moment, Mark and Kian’s eyes connected. They both smiled. “It’s cool. Seriously.”

Shane sighed. “Wait for me after school. I’m walking you home.” He shrugged, then turned back to Mark, who wondered if Shane had even noticed his presence in the last few minutes. He’d seemed too concerned with Kian. “So Mark… what kind of music do you like?”

Kian rolled his eyes. “Is that all you talk about? It’s all he talks about.” He added, addressing Mark now.

Shane sniffed, crossing his arms. “It’s important. You can always tell what someone’s like by what music they like.”

“Wow, deep.”

“It’s true.” He turned back to Mark, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. Mark watched him incredulously. “For example, I like boybands. Take That, Backstreet Boys, Boyzone… all them. I also love Michael Jackson. I can moonwalk and everything.” Kian sniggered at that. Shane slapped him playfully over the head. “Therefore I am romantic and very attractive. Plus I’m a bloody good dancer.” He grinned smugly and crossed his arms while Kian snorted next to him.

“Yeah, right, Filan.” Kian retorted. “You’re about as romantic as a block of cheese, and you dance like a demented chicken. And the looks...” He gestured to Shane’s frowning face. “...speak for themselves.”

“Ah shut up.” Shane replied, an indulgent smile breaking out over his face. “Anyway, you’re not much better, are you?”

“But I don’t listen to fucking Boyzone do I?”

“Well, let’s do your reading then. Shall we?” He turned to Kian and placed a hand on his shoulder, winking conspiratorially at Mark. “Our Kian is a bit of a rocker. He likes Metallica, but has a secret liking for musicals.” Kian shoved him hard for that.

“No I don’t.” But a telltale blush was rising to his cheeks.

“Yes you do. Caught you listening to Phantom the other day.” Shane replied smugly, ruffling Kian’s hair so that Kian yelped and had to smooth it down again. “This means that Kian looks tough on the outside but inside, he is an artsy, senstive little chap. Awww...” He ruffled Kian’s hair again. Kian shoved him, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor. Shane laughed, climbing back up again, looking completely unaffected.

Meanwhile, Kian was trying desperately to restyle his hair. But soon he gave up and glared at Shane in annoyance. “I’m going to fix this up.” He stood, shoving Shane lightly in the back. “I hate you, you know.”

“Hate you too.”

Kian went, grumbling under his breath, and Mark sniggered. Shane laughed too, but the moment Kian disappeared from sight, he sobered and moved closer, looking seriously at Mark. Mark felt an uneasy prickle start in the base of his spine and crawl up to his neck.

“How bad was he hurt?”

Mark hesitated, his voice stuck in his throat. What did he say? Kian had made it plain that he didn’t wan anyone to know, but Shane was Kian’s friend. How good a friend? Mark didn’t know. The silence seemed to stretch on and on, and Mark filled it with ums and ahs, trying to avoid eye-contact with Shane.

“I… Kian told me not to talk about it.” He said finally, figuring the truth was the best, even if it wasn’t the truth Shane wanted. “Sorry. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Not even a scale of one to ten?”

Mark shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine.” Shane gave him a smile, and Mark had the strangest feeling that he’d passed some kind of test.

 

*

 

Mark was just leaving the school building that afternoon when he heard his name called. School had just let out, and he was exhausted and not relishing the long walk home. Sarah had mentioned something about wanting to walk together one day this week, but she hadn’t been in today, was home sick with a cold, or so one of her friends had said with a disdainful look that made him wonder why she had agreed to go out with him in the first place. She and everyone around her was a million times better than him, he could read it in their faces. He was nothing.

He hoped she was feeling okay by this weekend.

“Mark!”

He turned, and scanned the crowd of his schoolmates for a moment, wondering if maybe he was hearing things. Then he heard his name again and managed to lock onto Shane, who was standing at the top of the stairs and waving.

Mark waved back, waiting while Shane jogged down the stairs and toward him.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Shane panted, smiling. “Hey, do you live close to Kian?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Mark shrugged, knowing from Shane’s face that he was going to be asked a favour. “Why?”

“Just… I gotta get straight home. My sister rang during last period and we’re doing a family dinner thing. Might go out or something. Anyway, usually I walk Kian home first, then double back, but I can’t tonight. Was wondering if…”

“I can walk him. Yeah.” Mark agreed readily, and felt pathetically appreciative of the grateful smile Shane gave him. He realised that until today he’d probably spoken no more than four words to another student, yet suddenly Shane and Kian were all too ready to talk to him. How he’d managed the courage to ask Sarah out was still a mystery, as was why she had said yes. It almost felt like he had friends now, even if he’d only had them a day. It was nice. “Where is he?”

“Shouldn’t be a minute. He has music in the afternoon, and they always take a bit of extra time packing up instruments and things. I’ll walk as far as my house, just can’t go further.”

“That’s fine.” Mark paused. “Kian plays an instrument?”

“Yeah. Little twat’s a one-man-band. Guitar, bass, drums… he’ll have a bash at anything, really. And you should hear him play the piano. He’s fucking Mozart or whoever.”

“I’m fucking Mozart? Isn’t that necrophilia?” A voice piped up, and both boys turned to look at Kian, who was standing with a guitar slung over the shoulder that wasn’t carrying his school satchel. Mark found himself laughing as part of a group. It was a nice feeling.

 

*

 

“So you never answered my question.”

“What question?” They were walking down the hill toward Shane’s house. Mark looked up at Shane questioningly.

“What kind of music do you like?” Shane smiled, putting a hand on Kian’s shoulder.

“Oh, um…” Mark shrugged. “Don’t know. Bit of everything, really.”

Shane grinned. “Token response of someone who likes embarrassing music!” Kian shoved him lightly, rolling his eyes.

“You’re such an eejit.”

“Shut up.” Shane poked his tongue out. “So come on, what are you into? What’s your favourite artist, then, if you like a bit of everything?”

“I don’t really have one.” Mark felt a blush climb to his cheeks. Kian poked him in the side. It tickled! Mark squealed, leaping away, then felt the blush worsen. The others didn’t seem to notice.

“Come on!” Shane rolled his eyes. “Look, I love Boyzone. I have all their CDs, know all their lyrics… it can’t be more embarrassing than that!”

Mark snorted. “You sure about that?”

“Only one way to find out!” Shane said confidently. Kian was looking at him expectantly, too.

Mark murmured his answer, under his breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear him, knowing they’d find out.

“Sorry?” Kian asked.

“Mariah Carey.” He sighed louder. “I like Mariah.”

Silence reigned for a second. Mark could see Kian next to him, tears of mirth brimming in his eyes, mouth twisted as he tried not to laugh. Shane smiled from Kian’s other side, and elbowed his friend in the side. Kian snorted a laugh.

“Shut up, deutz. You’re such a snob. Mariah Carey… okay…” Shane looked thoughtful for a moment. He shoved Kian again, who looked like he was about to develop a case of hysterics. Mark felt his whole face turn bright red. “Kian, stop acting like a tosser, or I’ll tell everyone you’re fucking Mozart.”

“Smartarse.” Kian snorted, crossing over to Shane’s other side, allowing Mark to walk next to Shane. For some inexplicable reason, Mark automatically began to miss Kian’s presence.

“So, Mariah Carey.” Shane tapped his chin, forehead wrinkling. “Alright, you believe in peace and love and all that, but you feel like you’re missing out on something in the world, like you don’t fit somewhere. You don’t think other people get you, but there’s someone out there that will. You just have to find them.”

“Oooooh… romantic.” Kian laughed. “You’re so full of shite, Filan.”

“Shut up!” Shane stopped walking, and it took Mark a moment to pause too, before realising they were outside the Carlton. “Was I close?”

“Yeah, why not.” Mark attempted, though he wasn’t sure exactly what Shane had meant. There was something honest about his words, yet he supposed it was like those dodgy tarot readings. You could twist it to suit just about anyone. Shane’s face broke into a self-satisfied grin.

“See? Told you I’m good.”

“You are fucking not.” Kian retorted. “You just think you are.”

“Shut up, man.” Shane grinned, and wrapped Kian in a hug. It was a friendly sort of hug, but it went on a little long, and Mark thought he saw Shane whisper something. But then it broke and Kian stepped back. Shane headed for the door.

“See you lads later. Nice meeting you, Mark!”

It didn’t take long to get to Kian’s house. Mark didn’t notice anyone menacing about either, just a few randoms from school, making their way home, but no-one of consequence. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how Kian walked close to him.

“When are you going out with Sarah?” Kian asked suddenly, as they were turning the corner into Kian’s street. Mark blinked, and turned to look at him, agape.

“How did you know about that?”

Kian shrugged. “People are talking about it.” He bit his lip. “How’d you manage that one?”

“Not a clue.” Mark chuckled to himself. “I just… I dunno, we got paired for lab and… she started talking to me. And she said she liked bowling, and I said I did too. I mean, I don’t even, that much. Don’t even know where it came from, just flew out of my mouth, like. So I asked if she wanted to go on Saturday. And then she said yeah.”

“Jesus, you lucky fuck.”

“Don’t you like her?” Mark hadn’t missed the hint of indifference in his voice, the restraint.

“She’s alright.” Kian shrugged. “She’s… I dunno. I just…” He shrugged again, turning to look at his own house. “Look, I better go. Thanks for walking me.”

“That’s alright.” Mark shuffled his feet, pretending not to hear Mrs Egan’s raised voice, echoing out the front window. Someone inside was getting a bollocking. “Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Kian hefted his satchel on his shoulder, then turned abruptly and headed for the front door, moving quickly. Mark watched him go.

He turned and headed back up the road, turning for home. It was cold. He tugged his coat tighter around him, wondering what his mam had made for dinner. It didn’t take long to reach home, and when he stepped in the door he could smell cooking, feel the warmth of his house even though the thermostat wasn’t that high. His dad smiled at him when he sat down to play a video game with his brother, and his mam asked him how his day had been.

He wondered what Kian was doing.


	3. Chapter 3

Mark stood nervously at Sarah’s door, shuffling his feet in an attempt to delay the actual ringing of the doorbell. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, wanting to burst free and run back down the street, screaming over its shoulder that this was a stupid bloody idea and why was he even here?

He wiped sweaty hands on his jeans, biting his lip and steeling himself. This was stupid. She had said yes, hadn’t she? She must want to go out with him, and he was standing here second guessing it. He shook himself. He swallowed. He closed his eyes. Then he opened them, reached forward, and pressed the doorbell.

It rang loudly, he could hear it reverberating around the house, making him wince. There was movement inside. Footsteps. He looked down quickly, doing a last minute appraisal to make sure that his fly wasn’t down and there were no stains on his shirt or anything. After a lot of deliberation he’d decided on his favourite jeans, along with a smart maroon t-shirt and the navy jacket Shane had commented on liking the other day after school when he had popped over for a CD Mark had promised to lend him.

It looked okay, he supposed. Then he stopped thinking about it. There was nothing he could do about it now.

He lifted his gaze from his Reeboks when the latch clattered and Miss Sarah O’Grady made her appearance. His tongue turned into something resembling a cardboard sponge, effectively blocking his throat as he took in her strapless knee-length dress and sandals. He tried to draw breath and failed. The pink material swished prettily around her knees, tightening around her breasts and stomach and showing off long, beautiful legs. Her dark hair rested on her pale, creamy shoulders, framing her pink cheeks, sparkling blue eyes and perfect pink lips. He detected the beginning of a stutter, but couldn’t stop himself speaking.

“H…hi.”

“Hi.” She said it so calmly, but her smile was genuine. He couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe, he mused, she did actually like him, though he honestly couldn’t see why. The thought was so alien that he stopped thinking for a moment. She eyed him, a question in her face.

“You okay?”

“Oh… erm…” He mentally slapped himself. “Yeah. Just… you look good.”

“Thank you.” She said with a laugh. He grinned, a blush sweeping from his toes to his ears. Could he possibly be any more of a dickhead? He’d fancied her for god knew how long and all he could say was that she looked good?

“Beautiful, I mean.”

She smiled broadly, shutting the door behind her and heading towards the steps, him following in her glorious wake.

“Thank you again.” She turned to face him, her eyes sparkling in a way that wasn’t too mocking. “You look nice too.”

He opened the gate, not able to do anything else without embarrassing himself. They began to walk toward town, her shoes clicking confidently on the road. He would have been the good date and driven her, had he been allowed to use the car. He had been banned since the front gate had met the rear fender and apparently was going to remain as such for the rest of his life.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the bowling alley. Her house was in the middle of town, just up the road from the Record Room, and the bowling alley was not far from that.

They got their shoes, her giving him a small smile and declining his offer of something to eat from the café. She let him buy her a coke, though, and he smiled proudly when her fingers wrapped around his upper arm as they walked down to their lane. He’d at least had the foresight to book a lane before coming, and it seemed to have been a good idea. The place was packed!

They sat themselves down between an elderly couple and a family with three bored-looking preteens. He tugged his shoes on while she entered their names into the computer, putting his name down first, which he thought must have meant something. So, while she was putting her own shoes on, he picked up his ball and went first.

It went straight into the gutter.

“Nice one!” She called, laughing.

“I must be out of practice.”

“Bless ya.” She shook her head, and looked at him. He wondered what she was staring at. “You gonna have your second go, then?” She said finally.

The second one went into the gutter as well. Her first go was a strike. He resisted the urge to stand up and hug her, share in her excitement. She grinned at him, coming back over and taking his hand in hers.

Nobody should have been allowed to look that good in bowling shoes.

“Come here.”

He followed.

She hefted his ball, putting it into his hand. He nearly dropped it, his wrists having turned to jelly along with the rest of his body. She laughed again.

“Oops.”

“Don’t worry.” She lifted his hand, slotting his fingers into the holes. His hand tingled. “Here, you gotta…” She showed him carefully, showing him how to stop it spinning, how to use the arrows on the floor to aim the ball right. He tried to stop grinning at her.

“I promise I’m not usually this bad.” He said stupidly. She patted his shoulder, absolutely no belief in her face. He wondered why it didn’t matter to her.

“You’re a bad liar, Mark.” She looked up, smiling prettily at him. “But I thought it was the girls who were supposed to be bad at things so the boys would feel them up?”

“I’m not…” The unmistakeable creep of a blush began to climb up his body again. God, what must she think of him.

“I know.” She touched his hand. “I could tell the second you asked me.”

He hefted the ball.

“Then why did you say yes?”

She winked. “Knock over a pin, and I’ll tell you.”

Shaking badly, he walked up to the lane. He tried to remember all she had said, but could only come up with the way her hand had felt in his, that delicate touch of her fingers, the skirt of her dress brushing his knee when she moved close.

He drew the ball back and swung it forward, praying for something to happen that at least didn’t involve the gutter. The ball shot forward, clattering down the lane.

And straight into the corner.

The last pin on the left rocked, the ball having just brushed it. He watched it, praying again. To all the gods above that it would knock over, at least make him look like less of a tit.

The clank of it falling on its side seemed to fill the room.

She cheered behind him, and he grinned, turning. She was jumping up and down, a smile lighting her face. He laughed, wanting to look modest, and slouched his way back over, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

“You gonna tell me, then?” He asked nervously. One of her hands tightened on his shoulder.

“Because you were very sweet.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, if he should be worrying about the declining state of his masculinity. Then he decided it didn’t matter in the slightest. A kiss landed on his cheek.

“Your turn again.”

The night progressed beautifully. She kept doing fantastically well, but didn’t gloat. A few other people from school came in about half an hour later. She barely looked at them, even though he knew for a fact that some were her friends. She just waved distractedly, then came over to help him again. He wasn’t doing much better, but if she was going to keep touching him, he didn’t mind at all.

It was on the last frame of their first game that he got his strike. He had really been concentrating, wanting to impress her, when there was a sudden bang and the sound of lots of pins falling over on top of each other. She squealed in excitement, and before he knew it he had an armful of beautiful girl, and there was a kiss being pressed to his mouth. He couldn’t even reciprocate, it was so sudden. She pulled back, covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“No…” He shook his head, feeling his mouth tingle. He bit his lip. “I don’t, y’know, mind.” He looked up from under his lashes to see her smiling at him. He was about to reach in and kiss her again, make the moment perfect, when he heard his name called. He turned to look at a bloke decked out in the employees uniform, who was waving a phone at him.

“Are you Mark Feehily?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in confusion. She let go, moving to the side and taking his arm.

“There’s a phone call for you.”

“Uh… okay.” He took the phone from the guy’s hand, lifting it to his ear and wondering who could possibly be calling him here. No-one knew he was here, did they? Apart from his parents, and they certainly wouldn’t call while he was in the middle of a date. His mother had looked ready to cry with pride when he’d walked out the door. “Hello?”

There was silence for a minute, and Mark almost hung up. Then he heard a shuddering whimper, and a soft cry.

“Hello?”

“Mark?” The voice was low and scared, whispered almost. Mark bit his lip, recognising the voice instantly, the same one he’d heard from those bushes the week before, broken and afraid.

“Kian? Is that you? Are you okay?”

“I… I…” Kian hissed in a breath. “Can’t walk.”

“Why?” Sarah was looking at him now, her face expectant, as if she was able to sense the worry zinging through him.

“My… my ankle. Doesn’t look right.” Kian sobbed softly. “Shane wouldn’t answer.”

Suddenly Sarah didn’t matter. Not when he heard the quiet agony in Kian’s voice. There was something else funny about his voice too, something faint and scary. “Where are you?”

“Bakery.” There was a soft cry. “Shit. Shit.”

“Don’t move.” Mark ordered. “Stay right where you are.”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to interrupt your date…” Kian broke off into tears. The idea of being anywhere but with Kian was abruptly absurd.

“I’m coming. Wait there.” Mark hung up the phone and turned to Sarah. “I… I’m sorry but…”

“Why? What’s happened?” Her face was tense. She was shifting on her feet.

“My mate. He’s been hurt…” Mark was already taking off his shoes. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, god, that’s fine. What’s happened?”

“I don’t know. He’s just called me.” He bit his lip. Kian was bound to be vulnerable and lashing out, if the way he had been last week was any indication. He probably wouldn’t want more people around him than he needed, especially if he was in serious pain. Mark reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and grabbing the first notes he found. He handed them to her. She looked at them blankly. “Can you get a cab? I’m sorry, I need to get…”

“It’s fine.” She grabbed his hands, pulling him to a halt. “Calm down, okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark bit his lip, taking in a deep lungful of air. “Okay.” He looked around. “Go hang out with your friends, okay? I’m sorry I’ve ruined…”

“No. I had a good time.” She smiled, and he was surprised to find his cheek kissed again. “Rain-check, okay?”

He nodded dumbly, shoving on his shoes and bolting for the door, nearly tripping over the laces he’d been too hurried to do up.

He paused outside the alley, trying to decide whether it would be a better idea to run straight to the bakery or whether he should go home first and grab the car. Kian would probably need the car if he was really hurt, he remembered, and began to run toward home, wondering in the back of his mind why Kian hadn’t just called an ambulance. It didn’t really matter, he decided. Kian was hurt, and he needed to help. That was all that mattered.

Five minutes later he was there and, grabbing the keys off the counter and shouting that he was borrowing the car, he leapt in and sped away.

He pulled up, the car screeching to a stop. He had been going well over the speed limit, but the town was quiet, it being a weeknight. He couldn’t see anyone, the street in front of the bakery was completely empty. Then he spotted a figure slumped in the phonebox. He could see a bent head, and when he drew closer he spotted two hands wrapped around an unnaturally twisted ankle.

“Kian!”

Kian’s head lifted. There were tears on his face, and his lip was swollen and split. Mark skidded onto his knees in front of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Mark?” Kian’s eyes were dazed, Mark noticed. He was blinking around at nothing.

“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

“I didn’t.” Kian looked at his ankle, then back up at Mark. “I called you.”

“Yeah. You did.” Mark sighed, reaching out a hand and pushing Kian’s hair off his face. “Look at me, okay?”

“Okay.” A faint voice said. “You went bowling.”

“That’s right.” Mark realised they must be in the only phone box left in the world that actually still had a phonebook. It was opened to the B section. The receiver swung lazily from its cord. “How’d you get here?”

“Wanted to call Shane.” Kian said softly. “Couldn’t find him.”

“Ki, look at me.” Mark ordered when Kian’s gaze began to slide off to the side. Kian did so, obediently, but Mark could tell he wasn’t really seeing him. “Did you get hit over the head?”

“Hit everywhere.” Kian said solemnly. “Fell down on the curb.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry I ruined your date. My ankle made a funny sound.” He added, his voice quivering with tears. “I’m so sorry…”

“No. It’s okay.” Mark stood, looking over at the car. “I’m going to call an ambulance. Sit tight, okay?”

“Don’t want one. It hurts. I want to go home and sleep.”

“You need to go to the hospital.” Mark explained patiently, even though he quite wanted to cry. I think your ankle’s broken. Or at least dislocated. You need to see a doctor.”

“But I… I don’t want one.” In one quick move, Kian reached up and grabbed hold of the receiver, yanking it towards him and holding it against his chest. “Don’t.”

“Kian…” Mark reached out, trying to take it off him, and was shocked when Kian let out an honest-to-god scream before bursting into tears.

“Kian!” Mark tried to keep the frustration from his voice, he really did. “Look, it’s either an ambulance or I try to get you into the car. And if I have to carry you it’s going to hurt. A lot.” God, how did he get himself into these situations?

Kian kept crying, holding the receiver over his face now. Mark glanced over at the car, realising he didn’t have much choice. Kian was getting more distressed by the minute, and Mark didn’t have any other means of calling an ambulance. All the shops around them were closed.

“Stay here.” He said finally. “And don’t you dare move. I’m going to get the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere, eejit.” Kian said in a moment of surprising lucidity. Mark reached out, touching his face. But instead of flinching away like Mark had expected, the smaller boy turned into it, nuzzling his palm. “Hurts.” He whispered.

“I know.” Mark whispered, cupping Kian’s cheek. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a second.”

He didn’t wait for Kian’s reply, running straight for the car instead and reversing it up the road to directly opposite the phonebox. He considered backing up a little more and driving onto the path, right up to Kian, but decided against it. The curb was too high, and the last thing he needed was to ruin the car. He didn’t really want to carry Kian to the hospital.

He climbed out. Kian was slumped lower now, his eyes almost shut. Mark put a hand on his shoulder, the other lifting his chin.

“Kian? Come on, look at me.”

“Mark?” Kian said drowsily. “What’s happening?”

“Gonna get you to the car.” Mark whispered. “Can you put your arms around my neck?”

“Yeah.” Kian lifted his arms, the phone clattering out of his grip. Mark wanted to grab it, but Kian’s grip was like a vice. Instead he put his arms under Kian, one at the knees and one at his back. Straining, he lifted the blonde, trying to ignore the hoarse scream that escaped Kian’s throat.

“Ow…” Kian sobbed, grabbing Mark tight enough to choke him.

Kian was soaked in sweat and almost comatose with pain by the time Mark managed to get him to the car. His ankle was dangling oddly, and bumped the seat when Mark slid him into the back, laying him across the back seat. He tried to buckle Kian in, at least stop him moving around too much, but Kian was laying too heavily to allow Mark to get a hand under him. So he left him, climbing into the front and beginning to drive slowly up the road toward Sligo General, glancing in the rear-view mirror every few seconds.

 

*

 

Kian was in an unnatural sleep, not moving much at all, except to mumble random words in his sleep. Mark glanced at Shane, who didn’t look back, just kept staring resolutely at Kian.

“Is his mam coming?”

Shane shook his head. “No. I didn’t call her.”

Mark looked over in surprise. Shane had been out of the room before, on the doctor’s orders to call Kian’s mother. He had been gone for almost ten minutes.

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t want me to.” Shane bit his lip, reaching out to brush Kian’s hair off his forehead. Kian made an unintelligible sound, turning into the touch. “Hey, Ki.” He whispered, then louder: “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“He wouldn’t let me call an ambulance.”

“He’s got a concussion. I doubt he knew what he was saying.”

“Yeah. He was pretty out of it.” Mark remembered the horrible minutes between getting Kian out of the car and calling Shane, feeling so alone and useless by Kian’s bedside. They had knocked him out and set his dislocated ankle – thank god it wasn’t broken – then subjected Mark to a hell of a lot of questions about the bruises all over his friend’s body. Questions Mark didn’t know how to answer in any sufficient detail.

Shane had been there the moment Mark had called. He’d just walked in the door from a football game they’d been to as a family, and hadn’t been able to get back out the door fast enough, from the sound of his voice and the rumpled look of him when he’d stumbled into the waiting room a few minutes later, seconds after Mark had finished calling his own mother and telling her why he had taken the car.

Kian stirred in the bed, rolling onto his side and falling asleep again. Shane pulled his chair closer to the head of the bed, stroking blonde hair out of Kian’s face. There was a small dressing on Kian’s lip, closing his split lip. Shane leant in, kissing his cheek.

“Do you want something to drink?” Mark asked, feeling as though he was intruding on something. Shane looked up.

“If you are…?” Mark nodded. “That’d be great. A coffee. Black, two sugars.” He ran his hand over his face, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes, looking very tired all of a sudden.

The coffee machine was almost an antique, spitting black fluid out at odd angles, even though Mark held the paper cup right against the nozzle. He sat down on a nearby chair and sipped his coffee, not ready to go back in yet, unable to get the sight of that twisted ankle from his mind.

He wondered once again how he’d gotten involved in this. A week ago he’d been walking home, a bit grumpy because of a detention but looking forward to a date he’d fantasized about for ages. Now here he was, the date ruined, his life turned upside down, and a very vulnerable young man suddenly his responsibility.

And yet, for the first time in his life, he had friends.

There was something strange about that. Maybe that was why he felt such a connection with Kian – it was natural to feel that way about a new friend, especially when he’d felt isolated so long. But there was something more intense about Kian, apart from the boy’s obvious determination to be stubborn about a bad situation. Something that made Mark want to reach over and hug him every few seconds, and that itched at his mind, keeping Kian there almost constantly.

Then there was Shane. Shane had secrets, Mark could see them shining out every time Shane touched Kian, hugged him, spoke to him. Kian’s secrets, weighting down the furrows in Shane’s brow when Shane had kissed his cheek, touched his hand as he lay in that hospital bed, his ankle up in a sling.

He wanted to know Shane’s secrets. Kian’s secrets. More intensely than he’d wanted anything else recently. More intensely than he wanted Sarah. He wanted to help, wanted the way Shane was around Kian.

He finished drinking his coffee. It had been lukewarm and grainy, not satisfying at all. He tossed the cup in the bin and went over to make Shane’s, carrying it carefully back along the halls to Kian’s room.

Kian was awake.

“Hey.” Kian said, before Mark could even open his mouth. Mark smiled.

“Hi. How you feeling?”

“Okay.” Kian smiled, looking much more awake than before. His eyes were sleepy, but not in that horrible glazed way they had been earlier. “I ruined your date, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Kian touched the small plaster on his lip, wincing. “How was it going?”

“Good.” Mark sat down in the remaining chair, smiling as he remembered it. “She kissed me.”

“Awwwww…!” Kian chuckled, touching his lip again. Shane tugged lightly on his elbow, and Kian turned to smile at him, a secretive glance that passed between them both. Mark shuffled his foot, looking for something to say.

“So… what happened?”

Kian’s face fell and Shane bit his own lip, leaving Mark wondering if he’d asked the wrong question. He always seemed to be doing that; putting his foot in it.

“Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kian sighed, laying back and staring at the ceiling. “I dunno, it’s just the same as usual. I was just walking, like. I’d been in to the shops and was a bit late getting home, so the street was pretty deserted. Everyone had closed up. And then I heard footsteps. So I walked faster, but not running, because I thought they might chase me if I did. They usually do.” Mark held back a shudder at that. The fact that this was a usual thing for Kian made him feel sick. “But they caught up with me anyway, screaming things at me. You know, that I’m gay, and a fag and that. So I started to run and my ankle went off the edge of the curb wrong, and I heard it go, then my head smacked the pavement.” He shrugged. “So here I am.”

“Is that why they do it? They think you’re gay?”

Kian looked at him curiously. “I thought everyone thought that. No-one talks to me because of it.”

Mark shrugged. He hadn’t heard anything himself, but he supposed he didn’t know enough people to hear it from.

“It never occurred to me.” Mark admitted. “I couldn’t figure out why. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with you. Y’know, that people might pick on. Thought maybe you were… I dunno, involved in something.”

“You’ve been watching too much American TV.” Kian snorted. “But yeah, I dunno. It seems like everyone notices lately. Gits.”

Shane ruffled his hair. “Don’t know how many times I’ve told you not to be by yourself after dark.”

“Yes mam. Gonna wash my underwear and tuck me in, too?

“Kian...”

“Yeah I know.” Kian laughed, bending over and kissing Shane on the cheek. “Thanks, ye bastard. You’re brill, you know.”

“Aw shucks.” Shane replied, grinning back and chucking Kian on the chin. Mark smiled, leaning back in his chair, feeling a deep, longing ache in his belly.

“So.” Kian said, after a moment’s silence. “Has the coffee gotten better since last time?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello?” Mark tucked the phone under his chin, fingers working to unknot a particularly stubborn shoelace.

“Markus!”

“Filan!” Mark laughed, dropping the shoelace so he could reposition the phone against his ear when he felt it begin to slip.

Mark had gotten closer to Shane in the month or so they’d known each other. He was still an antagonistic shit, but Mark had been to enough movies and outings with the older boy to have at least caught a glimpse of the kindness Shane usually reserved only for Kian. He was a compassionate boy, really, caring toward just about everyone that was smaller and more vulnerable than him. His whole family, in fact, were lovely. Mark had been to more than one dinner with them, all nine of them.

It was Kian he still couldn’t break the surface of.

“What’s you doing?”

“Not much.” Mark shrugged, his words muffled while he bit at the shoelace, trying to tug out the knot with his teeth. “Why?”

“Ki’s coming round soon. Thought you might be up for it? We were just gonna hang out. Might go to the cinema or something later.”

Mark thought for a moment. He did have a lot of homework to finish, but he supposed that his natural procrastination tendencies would stop him doing it even if he did stay home. And it wasn’t like he and Sarah were doing anything – she was out of town, staying with relatives over the break. He supposed he kind of missed her.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. The first week or two had been heaven. She had happily taken him up on that rain-check – a fact which still baffled him – and they had gone out a lot. He liked her, she was a great laugh and didn’t seem to care that he was much lower in the high-school pecking order. She always called him ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’, sure, which made him feel a little like a pity-fuck. Not that they were fucking.

If he was honest, this had seemed like a much better idea when he had been doomed to watch her from afar, adoring her like the goddess most of the other boys saw her as. But once he got close the shimmer had seemed to wear off. She complained too much about her weight, she bit her nails, she didn’t like the same movies he did. Hundreds of little things that shouldn’t have mattered, and yet they did. He couldn’t figure it out.

“Sounds good. What time?”

“Whenever. Kian’s popping round when he gets his arse in gear.”

“Cool.” Mark finally finished unknotting the shoelace and dropped the shoe to the floor, slipping his foot into it. “See you in a bit.” He hung up, then went looking for his other shoe.

 

*

 

Just under an hour later, Mark reached the Carlton. He waved at Shane’s mam, who waved back distractedly, too busy with customers, and continued on his way up the stairs and into Shane’s house.

Kian was already there, tuning a guitar, while Shane sat on the floor, throwing M&Ms in the air and catching them in his mouth.

“Hey.” Shane greeted him, the momentary distraction causing him to forget about the M&M, which landed squarely on his nose. Kian laughed, turning a few pegs before strumming the guitar, nodding to himself.

Shane picked up the M&M he’d dropped on the carpet and popped it in his mouth. Mark grabbed a few from the bowl and began to eat them out of his hand, one by one, depositing himself in a nearby orange beanbag.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Singing.” Shane said. “If Kian can ever get that thing tuned.”

“You’re the one who dropped it.” Kian retorted, running a hand over the sleek wood, the loving caress not lost on Mark.

“D’you sing?” Shane asked, completely ignoring Kian’s accusation.

“In the shower.” He offered, smiling. “What are you singing?”

“Open to debate.” Shane stretched out his toes, poking Kian in the knee. “Rock boy here has differing tastes from us commoners.”

“Hey, I learnt Boyzone for you. Don’t complain. It’s not my fault if I had to sink that low to reach you on a musical level.”

“Really?” Mark asked, interested. “Which songs do you know?”

“Oh feck, I’ve been outnumbered, haven’t I?” A stricken look crossed Kian’s face, and he hung his head in defeat. “You’re gonna make me play Boyzone, you bastards.”

“You love it, really.”

“Fuck off.” Kian bent low over his guitar, beginning to pick out notes randomly, looking as though he was trying to prolong the hellish inevitable. Shane poked him.

”Love Me For A Reason. Off you go.”

“You have got to be joking!” Kian was in classic Schoolmaster Egan mode, as Shane had called him behind his back more than once, and to his face more often. A very apt description for when Kian got into a cranky mood and began to talk them all down. “That’s a shit song!”

“It’s good song!” Shane protested.

“Fucking Boyzone.” Kian mumbled under his breath.

“In fairness…” Mark interrupted. “…it is a cover. The Osmonds did it first.”

Shane stared at him, his face a picture of surprise, and then grinned. “Mark, man, I love you!”

“God, get a room!” Kian sneered. Shane poked him again.

“Come on, lad. Play the Osmonds.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“Am too.” Shane threw an M&M at his head. Mark had the sudden, distinct urge to stand up for Kian, so he threw one at Shane.

Then all hell broke loose.

A cushion hit him square in the face, knocking him backwards into his beanbag. Within about three seconds Shane was sitting on him, smacking him over and over with the cushion, only to be dragged off by Kian a moment later and sat on himself, a handful chocolates shoved down his shirt while he yelled under Kian, who had settled heavily on his back.

Right! Mark grabbed a cushion himself. This was war!

It was not too long later that the boys lay in a giggling mess, cushions and M&Ms strewn about the room. Shane looked around from where his head was cushioned on Mark’s beanbag and groaned.

“Mam’s gonna pitch a fit when she sees this.”

Kian lifted his head momentarily from Mark’s stomach to survey the damage. “Arh, we’ll help you clean up. Won’t we Marky?”

Mark nodded, extricating himself from the tangle of limbs. He didn’t really want to, it felt kind of nice having Kian’s head on his belly, for reasons he didn’t really want to think about. But his bladder was protesting. “After I go to the loo, yeah?”

He made his way to the toilet, leaving the other two behind, Kian protesting the loss of his pillow. Mark didn’t know how he felt about his stomach being referred to as a pillow. He’d been really trying to cut back on the junk food lately, though he knew he was still podgy. Sarah didn’t seem to mind, was always trying to kiss him and grope him. He always had to resist the urge to push her away.

It was weird to think like that, wasn’t it? He knew it was. He was supposed to want her desperately, to feel the way he had when he’d watched her doodling on her notebook across the classroom, her dark hair falling across her face, not a single thought of him in her head.

She’d want him to do something soon. He could see in her face whenever they kissed that she wanted more out of this. Maybe some sort of commitment, for him to say something deep and heartfelt about his feelings. For them to get involved in the kind of games that were best played naked.

He didn’t really know if he wanted to see her naked. He certainly wasn’t desperate to. He supposed he wouldn’t complain if he were to see her naked, but…

He sighed, flushing the toilet. This was too much to think about. Nobody else would have thought about this, would they? It was weird. Everyone wanted her. And he’d somehow been the one to get her. He should have been grateful.

He made his way back to the living room, putting it out of his mind. He managed to be distracted, anyway, by the whispered voices coming from the next room as he made his way down the hall. He was going to burst straight in, let them keep whatever it was they were whispering about a secret, but his curiosity got the better of him and he stopped, intending only to listen for a moment.

“So you going to tell him, then?”

“What?” Kian sounded exasperated.

“That you fancy him.”

Fancy… him?

Mark flattened himself against the wall, unable to keep himself from eavesdropping. Kian was gay? He’d just assumed Kian got beat up because people thought he was gay. Mark could see how they might come to that conclusion. Kian was interested in fashion even if he couldn’t afford anything great, took pride in his hair, which was always carefully styled. He didn’t ever have a girlfriend, but that could have been said of Mark until recently. Kian was quiet in class, didn’t have many friends, it was completely understandable that he not be with any girls.

But… he played football, for god’s sake!

“Are you kidding? He’d never speak to me again!”

“He’s a nice guy, Ki. Even if he doesn’t like you, I don’t think he’d hate you. Why not? Mark’s cool.”

“But Mark’s not gay.” Kian sighed heavily. “Just drop it, okay? He’ll be back soon.”

“I’m bringing it up again later, you realise that.”

“You always bloody do, don’t you? Shane, there’s no point doing this! Don’t you get that? Mark doesn’t like me!”

Taking a deep breath, Mark stepped back into the room. Kian was right, he should have been back soon. Emotions and thoughts swirled through his head, but he fought to keep them off his face.

The conversation changed the moment they saw him.

“I don’t care what you say! Stephen Gately isn’t gay!”

“Oh come on, Shane! He’s in bloody Boyzone!”

“So? Ronan’s not gay, is he? Keith’s not gay!”

“I wasn’t talking about them. I was talking about Stephen.” Kian retorted. He turned to Mark. “What do you reckon? Gay or straight?”

Mark shrugged, unable to feel anything toward Kian but friendship when those eyes looked at him, so full of guarded trust. He’d leave all the other feelings til later. “Does it matter? It’s not like it affects his voice.” Kian looked at him curiously.

“No, but still…” Kian shrugged. “Just out of interest. I wanna know.”

“Oh well, in that case…” Mark thought for a moment, trying to come up with Stephen’s face but only managing to get Kian’s. His thoughts were infected with Kian. “I dunno. Bi, maybe. I don’t reckon the others are, but there’s a chance with him.”

Kian gave Shane a triumphant look. Shane raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking toward Mark. Kian shrugged at him.

Mark began to pick up the M&Ms that scattered the floor, used now to their silent conversations.

“Come on, let’s clean this tip up.”

 

*

 

It was two weeks later that Mark was sitting in class, between Kian and Sarah, trying unenthusiastically to focus on the board. It was French, and normally he was interested, was writing his answers down like lightning, but today something was distracting him.

He started as a paper airplane landed on his desk and he looked up briefly to make sure Mrs Lynch hadn’t noticed anything. Her back was to the class, so Mark opened the folded paper, looking down at the neat cursive handwriting there.

_Going to Emma’s party on Saturday. You coming?_

_Love Sarah xxx_

He sighed, reading it again before replying. Love Sarah. Wasn’t that just great? God, she was so fucking clingy! He didn’t even like her friends, they were all completely up their own arses. He’d just sit around, feeling like a tit, wishing he was with people he actually liked.

_Nah. Having a couple of mates round. Maybe next time._

He knew he should break up with her, put them both out of their misery, but it was just so hard. He guessed she was almost becoming his security blanket; there in case he ever did want her. A front, so that he wouldn’t look weirder that everyone already thought he was. He didn’t like it one bit.

Another note arrived from his right and he glanced down. What was he? The fucking post office?

_Coming to footy practice this arvo? Shane’s got a 6-pack for afters._

_Kian._ __

Mark smiled at the messy scrawl. He and Kian had gotten even closer, regardless of the fact that Kian apparently fancied him. Mark hadn’t heard anything about it since then, and hoped that maybe it had been a passing thing. He knew it hadn’t been, he had been watching Kian more intently lately, conscious of every movement the blonde made. Even so, Mark refused to let it affect their friendship. Kian hadn’t been weird around him or anything, so Mark didn’t mind. He just wished Kian would admit he was gay, at least.

He quickly confirmed and passed the note back, causing Sarah to give him a curious look. Mark shook his head and Sarah shrugged, going back to her verbs.

He turned back as Kian grinned and pocketed the note, nodding, and then swept his blonde hair out of his eyes with one hand. His hair was getting longer, and Mark wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, or because he was too lazy to get it cut. Either way, he thought it looked good on him. Really suited him. Kian winked and Mark blushed slightly at having been caught staring.

He looked back down at his books, but couldn’t help staring out of the corner of his eye as Kian stretched in his seat, his biceps easily visible through the thin material of his school shirt. No doubt second- or third-hand from one of his older brothers. Mark had always been envious of Kian’s body, and thought it was unfair that a sixteen year old boy could be so physically fit. It made him wonder what Kian saw in him really. Kian did play a lot of football, he supposed, and Mark knew he did lots of exercise, like running and weights and stuff.

Kian looked at him again and this time Mark didn’t look away. There didn’t seem much point. Kian knew he was staring.

“What?” Kian mouthed. Mark watched as Kian ran his tongue over his lips, his blue eyes confused. He was just about to come up with some stupid answer, when Mrs Lynch turned around. He moved back to his work so as not to be caught, but couldn’t help sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye as Kian moved back to his work, his tongue peeking between his lips in concentration.

Class seemed to go on forever, and Mark was glad that it was the last one of the day. He was about to go talk to Kian and explain himself, when he felt a light tap on his arm.

Sarah.

“Hey.” He forced a smile, turning back around.

“Hi.” She replied, hooking her arm in his. “You headed home?”

“Going to watch footy practice.” He explained. “How about you?” He glanced up at Kian, who had a slightly pained expression on his face as he discreetly watched the two of them.

“No plans.” She smiled at him. “Mind if I come along?”

 

*

 

“Shane, Sarah. Sarah, Shane.”

“Hiya, Sarah.” Shane reached out a hand for her to shake. They’d climbed up the stands to where he was sitting with his bag between his knees. It was windy and cold up here, as Mark had told her that it would be. Apparently it was his duty to keep her warm.

He sat down, trying not to grimace when she cuddled up next to him. After almost three months of dating he’d come to the conclusion that she was the most irritating person alive. She was practically sharing his air as he sat next to her.

He choked back his frustration and looked at Shane, who had raised an eyebrow.

“So Sarah, what kind of music do you like?”

She giggled in an annoyingly cute way that made Mark want to strangle her. He didn’t understand how she could get on his nerves like this. A few months ago that laugh would have reduced him to a trembling wreck and now...

“I dunno.” She smiled. “I’m not really into music.”

Shane smiled thinly and turned back to Kian, who was racing around the field with the other guys, jostling and kicking out at the ball. Mark followed his gaze, watching as Kian jumped on some bigger boy’s back, hanging on tight. Mark smiled. Little fighter.

Kian glanced up, raising his eyebrows at Shane when he spotted Sarah, his look turning resigned when Shane shrugged.

“Go Kian!” Shane screamed as Kian scored. Mark wanted to do the same, but Sarah had her arm firmly around his waist. He settled for yelling out, and Kian gave them a wave as he ran past, his loose hand-me-down shirt streaming behind him.

Soon enough practice was over, but to Mark it felt like hours. With Sarah’s hand around his waist, the awkward silence between him and Shane, and the way Kian was glancing sadly at them every five seconds, it was probably the most painful hour and a half of Mark’s life. Practice came to a close and Kian clomped up to stand in the row of seats in front of them, dripping mud and grinning.

“Hey.”

“Hey Ki.” Shane replied. “Get a bit dirty did ya?”

“Just a bit.” Kian replied, shaking so that droplets of mud and water flew from his hair, causing Sarah to squeal as some flicked on her skirt. Kian smiled apologetically, but Mark could tell he wasn’t the least bit sorry. “Sorry.”

She tsk-ed and smoothed out her skirt, looking at Mark for back-up. He just shrugged, not feeling quite willing to deal with her shit right now, not when Kian was standing in front of her looking a hundred times more upset. She gave him an ugly scowl.

“I’m going home now.” She said, standing up, leaving Mark wondering why she’d even come in the first place. “Walk me, Mark?”

Mark bit his lip, looking between Kian, who was dripping mud, and Sarah, who looked ethereally immaculate, except for the tiny specks of dirt on her skirt.

“Er... I can’t.” He said, trying to look sorry. “I promised I’d stay here with Kian. Help him with his French. I’ll walk you tomorrow, though.”

For a terrifying second she looked like she was going to yell at him, but the mask dropped back into place and she smiled prettily. “Oh, if you’re too busy...” She bared her teeth, in something more like a snarl than a smile. “Michael’s going my way, so I’ll walk with him.” Michael McCarthy, football player extraordinaire. He knew Michael liked her – she knew too, come to that. Well Michael could have the sodding girl, for all he cared. He hoped they’d be very happy together, far away from him.

“Okay. See ya then.” She strode gracefully down the steps and linked arms with Michael, who was just exiting the changing rooms. They both looked so fucking clean and perfect walking away together that Mark should have been jealous.

“Come on, lads.” He said, standing up. “I heard someone mention beer.”

 

*

 

“Mark! Help!” Kian yelped as Shane tackled him to the ground, both boys rolling across the grass, giggling and shrieking. Mark smiled, taking a long drag on his cigarette and puffing a cloud of smoke up into the sky, watching as it obscured the stars and then dispersed, flittering away into the atmosphere.

The two six packs were almost empty now, and they were parked in the middle of an empty field, Mark lain on the hood of Shane’s car while Shane and Kian ran about drunkenly through the long grass. They were hyperactive drunks, while Mark tended to be a bit more quiet and thoughtful. He took another puff on his cigarette. He knew they were bad for him, and in his defence he only had one every now and then. He supposed he was a social smoker.

Yes, social: getting drunk in a field with two mates.

He grinned as Shane plonked himself down on Mark’s right, stealing a cigarette and allowing Mark to light it. Kian climbed up on the other side, squeezing alongside him.

“Want one?” Mark offered, holding the packet out to Kian.

“Nah. I’d rather not have lung cancer, if it’s all the same to you.”

Mark shrugged and stubbed out his cigarette, making sure it was dead before throwing it onto the grass. “It’s nice out here.” He observed, settling back so his head lay against the top of the windscreen, his arms folded behind his neck. “Quiet, and with the stars and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Kian sighed, lifting his head to look at Shane. “Is he asleep?”

He was, the cigarette still held firmly between his fingers. Mark reached over and stole it, taking a long drag and sighing as the smoke filled his lungs. “Can’t hold his drink, I swear.”

“Mmm...” Kian was non-committal, but pressed himself slightly into Mark’s side, sighing warmly. It was rather nice, Mark reflected, in a friendly kind of way. He reached out and wrapped his arm around Kian, letting the other boy’s head rest on his arm, and blurrily hoped Kian didn’t misconstrue this as a come-on. He puffed once more on Shane’s cigarette before discarding it the same as the first one, smiling as Kian shifted closer again, burying his face into Mark’s shoulder.

“Do you really like Sarah?” Kian asked suddenly, his words muffled by Mark’s shirt.

“Sure.” Mark shrugged. He caught Kian’s look, that hopeful little glance, and sighed. “I dunno. She’s kind of annoying me. I think she was more interesting when I didn’t know anything about her.”

“She’s very pretty.” Kian said softly.

“You’re the expert on girls, are you?”

Kian didn’t speak. The silence hung between them, heavy and close. Shane snored quietly beside them.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at Kian, feeling the importance in the soft mention of his name, even through the hazy drunkenness that fogged his thoughts.

“Would you hate me if… shit.” He put a hand over his face, rolling onto his back, away from Mark. He was drunk too, blinking a little too slowly, but his words seemed clear enough.

“If you were gay?”

God bless liquid confidence. Kian looked at him in surprise, his mouth a little agape.

“Nah.” Mark added. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kian sat up, cross-legged, face in his hands, and Mark watched his ears turn red. He heaved himself up, too, draping an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Kian flinched, but it was more than Kian would have allowed when they’d first met. Mark pulled him closer, putting a hand on the knee closest to him.

“You okay?”

“How did you know?”

“I heard you and Shay talking.” Mark sighed, the beer mixing with his emotions and getting under his skin. He felt so sorry for Kian. So so sorry. He intimated this to Kian, who looked up.

“What for?”

“For… cos I don’t fancy you…” Mark attempted, sure that that had been part of the understanding when he’d admitted knowing Kian’s sexuality. Not so, apparently. He’d beat himself up for it in the morning, when Kian’s hurt, shocked expression had faded in a haze of alcohol.

Kian climbed down off the car, and Mark was just sober enough to climb down and follow him, the older boy stalking away from him across the field. When he caught up, Kian began to run.

“Leave me alone!”

“Kian!” Mark cried, his longer legs help with catching up, the difference in fitness negligible when it was alcohol controlling their muscles.

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Mark’s arms caught him around the waist and they toppled to the ground, Kian landing on top of him as Mark’s momentum sent him sliding on his back on the grass. Kian tried to stand up, but Mark held on.

“I’m sorry.” Mark attempted again.

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” Kian stopped struggling, putting his head down on Mark’s chest. Mark cradled the back of his head with one hand, stroking his hair. He felt Kian sob.

“You’re still my best friend.” He managed.

“I hate feeling like this.” Kian whispered. “Why did I have to be such a freak?”

“You’re not a freak.” Mark murmured back, wrapping his arms around Kian, trying to stop him shaking. Kian looked up at him.

“I am.” He muttered, and pulled away, standing up. Mark stood too, putting his arm around Kian’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug. Kian’s face pressed into his neck.

“You’re not. You’re perfect.” Mark murmured. Kian looked up, his eyes wet and red, and for a moment something passed between them, something electric. Mark’s mind cleared, revealing all kinds of frightening, honest things to him, which flittered away seconds later into the haze of his mind, leaving him with the strangest feeling that Kian would be a lovely kisser.

“Lads!” A voice called from out of the darkness. “Where are you?”

“We’re here, Shane!” Kian called back. Mark smiled at him, running a hand through Kian’s hair. Kian face pressed into his chest, his arms squeezing tightly around Mark’s waist.

“We should go back before he gets himself into a state.” Mark said softly, not wanting to break this moment, whatever it was.

“Yeah.”

They set off across the fields toward the car, Mark not sure whether he was floating on air or walking across the bottom of a deep, black ocean.


	5. Chapter 5

Kian stood at the front door in a tight pair of jeans and loose t-shirt, grinning up at Mark over the top of his sunglasses. It was Saturday afternoon, and Mark had been tidying all day, making the house liveable for Shane and Kian staying the night. Apparently it was his responsibility, seeing as they were his friends.

“Hi Ki.” He ushered the blonde inside, leading him upstairs and gesturing for Kian to dump his bag in the corner. They sat down on the bed, Mark acutely aware of Kian’s presence, Kian twitching slightly when ever Mark moved. Silence stretched out before them.

“So the other night...”  
“Mark, about the other night...”

They both spoke at the same time. Kian giggled, his voice shrill with nerves.

“You go.” Kian offered, but Mark shook his head.

“It’s fine. You go.”

Kian took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his knees. Mark resisted the impulse to put his arm around Kian’s shoulder.

“I’m just… I mean, I wanted to say sorry about the other night. I was drunk and I…” He shook his head. “I mean, I know you were drunk too, so if you wanted to take back anything you said… like, I mean if you don’t wanna be mates anymore. I… I’m sorry I lied to you. So… it’s okay. I’ll understand.”

“Kian, shut up.” Mark laughed. “You’re rambling, eejit.” Kian gave him an evil look. Mark slung his arm around Kian’s shoulder, giving into the earlier urge. “I’m really okay with it.”

“I promise I won’t let my… my feelings affect anything.” Kian rested his chin in his hands. “It’s not your fault. I won’t make you suffer for my being… y’know. Into you, or whatever.”

“It’s really okay.” Mark nudged him, smiling when Kian looked up. “I mean, I just worry about you. You can talk or whatever. If you need. About anything.”

“Yeah.” Kian stood up and went to rummage in his bag, but it couldn’t hide the blush that spread over his face, somewhere between relieved and heartbroken that made Mark want to cry all of a sudden. “Chocolate?” He offered, holding up a huge block. Mark grinned, taking a row and just about shoving it in his mouth. “That’s attractive.” Kian joked as Mark scrubbed melted chocolate from his mouth with the back of his hand.”

“Arh, you love me.” Mark said, reaching for another piece.

“Yeah.” Kian said softly. “I do.”

Mark didn’t know what to say to that. Kian shrugged, looking at his knees, and they were about to descend into another awkward silence when the doorbell rang. Both boys sighed gratefully and then laughed, and just like that they were back to being comfortable again. Mark stood, slapping Kian on the back. Kian let out a yelp of pain.

Mark was about to retort that he hadn’t hit Kian that hard, and call him a wimp. But then he caught the look on Kian’s face. He sat back down, pulling Kian’s sleeve up over his shoulder, even though the older boy fought him.

“Who keeps hurting you?” Mark whispered, stroking around the dark, purple bruise that covered most of Kian’s shoulder blade.

Kian shook his head, pulling away.

“Shane’s here. Come on.”

 

*

 

“Popcorn.” Kian ordered, taking the bowl that Mark passed. He didn’t even look up, his eyes fixed firmly on the TV screen, the only light in the room. Mark watched as the soft glow flickered across Kian’s face, and then flopped back down, resting his head on the beanbag between Kian and Shane.

Shane had brought over a selection of videos, most of which were utter crap. They had chuckled their way through Ace Ventura, which had been quite decent, and The Nutty Professor, which Mark had thoroughly enjoyed. Now, at ten past one in the morning, they were half-watching Friday The 13th, which had only really been chosen for a laugh. It was quite good, though. Scary, even with the iffy special effects. And as Kian had pointed out, it had Kevin Bacon with a boner.

Mark didn’t really like to admit that he’d noticed that himself.

“Popcorn.” Shane said, and Kian passed the bowl across Mark’s chest. Shane took a handful and passed it back, putting it in Mark’s lap.

The fell back into silence, watching the events unfold on the screen. Kian had moved closer to him over the last few minutes, though Mark wasn’t sure if he’d noticed it himself. Maybe he was just freaked out by the film and doing it subconsciously. Either way, Mark didn’t really mind. It felt kind of nice. Kian was warm, and every now and then their bodies touched, sending a comfortable buzz of heat up Mark’s side.

“Kevin Bacon, eh?” Mark joked, turning to glance at Kian, who winked.

“Well he is fairly gorgeous!” Kian’s hand brushed Mark’s for a split second, though Mark wasn’t sure who had moved. Kian pursed his lips. “Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable or anything. Shane doesn’t usually…”

“It’s fine.” Mark smiled back, brushing Kian’s hand, this time on purpose. He felt fingers curl toward him, searching, but pulled away. He didn’t really want to pull away. He wanted to feel Kian’s hand. He shouldn’t have wanted that.

Onscreen, Kevin wandered around doing whatever it was Kevin did. Kian turned back, practically salivating at the screen. A strange feeling filled Mark. The same one he’d felt months ago whenever he saw Sarah talking to a boy that wasn’t him. Something longing. Something…

God, no! It wasn’t jealousy at all! It was just… wasn’t Kian supposed to like him?

Oh stop it. Kian was allowed to perve on whoever he wanted. What the hell did that have to do with Mark?

God, Kian was warm.

Kian stretched, a low groan accompanying the movement as his muscles protested. Mark watched in fascination as tanned muscles pulled taut along Kian’s arms and legs, which were covered only by a grey shirt and black boxer shorts. “Christ.” Kian muttered. “I’ve been sitting still for too long.” He looked up at Mark, who tried not to look like he’d been watching. “You want the popcorn back?”

Kevin was back on screen, wandering around in the dark and the rain. Mark let himself get absorbed in the film again, watching the action onscreen, blocking out the presence of Kian beside him.

He felt like screaming when Kevin climbed up onto the bunk. He was such an idiot! Didn’t he know the killer was nearby?

An arrow burst up from below. Mark jumped, hand grabbing automatically for the nearest thing, which just happened to be Kian’s hand. Kevin’s eyes went wide, and blood bubbled up from his slashed throat.

Kian sniggered.

“You alright there?”

“Yeah.” Mark said shyly. Kian’s hand felt nice in his. He decided not to let go. Kian squeezed his hand, but made no move to let go either. Mark couldn’t look at him. What the hell was he doing?

He jumped again when the girl got an axe in the face. Kian sniggered again, and Mark almost jumped for a third time when he felt a thumb slowly stroke the back of his hand.

“Calm down, eejit.”

“Jesus, Mark, are you frightened of this?” Shane asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be joking!”

“No…” Mark attempted. “It just surprised me, that’s all.”

The thumb was still stroking the back of his hand. Mark felt the warmth of it, the soft feeling of skin against his. Kian’s foot touched his, then drew back. Mark touched Kian’s foot with his own. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the look of concentration on the blonde’s face, no particular emotion revealed. The thumb ran over his hand again, stroking him. Kian shifted a little.

It felt very hot under these blankets.

“Mark?” Mark nearly jumped out of his skin, but managed to keep his reaction as unnoticeable as possible. Shane looked at him.

“Spook ya?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. He felt Kian’s hand move in his, and hoped desperately it wouldn’t go away. But it settled back in his grip within a moment, Kian’s fingers lacing with his. He looked at the TV, trying to figure out what had happened in the movie since he had stopped paying attention.

“Popcorn.” Mark let go of Kian’s hand to pick it up, lifting it out of his lap and readjusting the blanket so that the growing hardness in his boxers couldn’t be detected. He heard Kian’s breathing hitch, faint but very meaningful. He adjusted the blankets again.

He passed the bowl to Shane and lay back down, hesitating for a moment. This was an awful, awful idea. Kian fancied him – maybe even loved him – was likely to be so hurt by this… this… whatever Mark thought he was doing. What was he doing?

God, Kian was warm.

His hand slipped back into Kian’s, fitting perfectly. Then, after another moment’s stillness, when it became apparent that Shane was focused on the movie, he began to run his thumb gently back and forth across the back of Kian’s hand, feeling himself harden even more when Kian gasped. He looked over, frightened of what he was going to see, but too curious to resist. Kian’s eyes were closed, his mouth open a little. As Mark watched, he bit his lip then let it go, eyes squeezing shut. His tongue swept out, wetting his lips.

Mark turned back to the movie, pretending not to feel what he was feeling so strongly.

The movie finished soon. Shane had been dozing through the end of it, but leapt awake again when Jason jumped out of the water. Mark barely noticed. All he could focus on was the feeling of Kian’s hand in his. He had kept stroking Kian’s hand all through the remainder of the film, intoxicated by the feel of it in his. It was so warm and soft and strong, Kian’s thumb joining in soon after Mrs Vorhees had arrived on screen. Mark had nearly moaned when it had slipped between their palms, stroking between them, the nail scratching against his skin. Shane began to doze again. Mark and Kian’s thumbs began to wrestle, stroking against each other, rubbing, curling around the other.

“Mark.” Kian whispered as the credits began to roll, Shane fast asleep on Mark’s other side. Mark watched him arch up a little, Kian’s hand squeezing his tightly. Kian bit his lip, closed his eyes, groaned under his breath. Mark had to close his own, grab Kian’s hand tighter, if only to direct energy away from the pressure accumulating in his boxers.

Mark glanced over at him. Kian’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. There were a few beads of sweat trickling down his temples. Kian squeezed his hand again, pulling it closer, and Mark felt a moan escape his mouth when the back of his hand felt the sparse hair on Kian’s thigh.

The rest of Kian’s skin was even hotter than his hand had been. It was almost burning. He pressed it closer anyway, refusing to look at Kian when nails dug into his palm. He heard Kian whimper.

His hand was abruptly released.

“I’m going to the toilet.” Kian’s voice sounded funny. Heavy. Breathy. The back of his shirt was stained a darker grey by sweat. Mark wriggled, feeling sweat itch against his own back. His erection was heavy, aching against his stomach. He pulled himself up anyway, going over to the closed bathroom door. He could hear things inside. Noises. Breaths. Quiet moans. He resisted the urge to groan out loud, hand delving into his own boxers, one eye trained on Shane’s still form.

“Mark.” He heard Kian whisper, then a hitching, moaning breath. The sound of flesh moving against flesh. Mark leaned his flushed forehead against the door, shoving away the little voice in his head that said this was so wrong. That he was straight. That he liked girls. That his growing fascination with Kian hadn’t been leading to this moment. That he didn’t see something in Kian; something special; something everything. That he wasn’t standing outside his own bathroom door, thinking about Kian inside, stroking his own cock and thinking about Kian. Wanting Kian. Wanting to hold him and kiss him and touch him and lov…

Kian’s orgasm was announced by a breathy, tortured little cry. It sounded like he was biting his lip. Mark managed to hold back his own, letting his hand slip from his boxers. He went back to his blanket, sliding beneath it, turning on his side and waiting for Kian’s return.

It was a very long time before Kian’s feet padded across the floor. Mark felt him slide in beside him, but refused to open his eyes, no matter how much his erection was screaming at him. A hand touched his. Mark curled his hand around it automatically, listening to Kian, waiting til he fell asleep.

Then he snuck into the bathroom, stroking himself quickly and whispering Kian’s name when he came.

 

*

 

Mark opened his eyes, blinking around confusedly for a second. The TV was still shining on his face, emitting its quiet blue glow, the video having stopped and rewound itself ages ago. Everything felt black and white, the sun almost ready to climb its way over the horizon. There were slight tinges of colour beginning to seep into the edges of the world. There was a heavy weight on his chest.

He looked down. Kian was lain alongside him, his arm thrown over Mark’s chest, his lips parted in the sweetest smile Mark had ever seen.

He was fast asleep.

Mark smiled down fondly at him. Kian always looked so much younger than his sixteen, almost seventeen, years. It amazed Mark how fragile and innocent he looked. He hesitantly picked up a few strands of blonde hair and rubbed them between his fingers, marvelling at the texture. Soft and silky, with a lovely Kian smell, which he discovered as he bent to sniff them. He jumped as a loud snore echoed from his left, and turned to see Shane roll onto his back, luckily still fast asleep. It was too late though, Kian’s hand had moved away, and was now tucked under the blonde’s face

Mark shifted, carefully sliding out from under Kian so he could get the remote. He found it in the popcorn bowl, which had tipped over on its side when Shane jostled it in his sleep. He switched the TV off and went back, intending on going right back to sleep.

Kian’s eyes were open. That smile was still on his mouth, the sunrise lighting up the growing uncertainty in it.

Kian’s voice was soft and croaky, full of sleep. “Morning.”

“Not yet.” Mark whispered. “Not til midday, at least.”

Kian snorted, rolling over onto his back

“You’re not up with the horses?”

“The horses are as lazy as me.” Mark smiled. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” Kian yawned, scratching his messy hair before rolling on his side and tucking his hand under his chin again, moving closer to Mark. “What’s the time?”

Mark glanced at his watch, just visible in the burgeoning light. “About six.”

“Mm.” Kian said. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into his own hands. He was beautiful, skin glowing in the dawn light. Mark reached out, hand drawn to him. He caressed Kian’s cheek, absorbing the soft sensuality of Kian’s skin. Kian’s eyes flew open. Fixing on Mark. Mark couldn’t make himself pull away.

“Ki…” His thumb ran across Kian’s lower lip, completely of its own accord. Mark wanted to scream and run. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t him. He couldn’t honestly be doing this; having these feelings.

Kian’s lips parted. Mark closed his eyes, feeling the kiss against the pad of his thump. Kian shivered against him. When had their bodies pressed together? Kian’s hand touched his cheek, thumb running across his lip, mirroring the touch.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed that Kian’s were shut.

“Ki…” He said, frightened.

“Shh.” Kian whispered. “This is a dream. I don’t want to wake up.”

A giggle burst from Mark’s mouth. Kian grinned too, his eyes still closed. Mark moved closer, closing his eyes, feeling breath on his mouth, feeling it speed up, Kian’s chest moving against him, the hand moving to stroke his chin, caressing his neck. It curled around his nape.

Their lips touched. Mark could taste sour morning breath, feel his own. It didn’t matter. Kian pressed closer, his chest crushing against Mark’s, their feet tangling together. A knee hooked around his. He felt lips moving against his, chaste and careful, the hand on the back of his neck tightening, his own thumb jostled out of the way. Kian panted against him, breathless, his skin hot.

“Oh.” Kian whispered when they pulled apart. He ran a hand through Mark’s hair, giving him a lopsided smile, eyes sparkling, clear and wonderful. “That was my first kiss.”

“Really?” For some reason, Mark wanted to cry.

Kian nodded, a blush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks.

“Was it any good?”

Kian nodded again, looking down, his lashes heavy and bashful.

“Was perfect.”

Shane grunted beside them, rolling over onto his belly. Mark turned to look at him, only looking back at Kian when he was satisfied that Shane was asleep. Kian yawned, covering his mouth.

“We should get some more sleep.” Mark whispered.

“Yeah.” Kian’s hand released Mark and touched his own lips, which were swollen and pink, even from that one kiss. The blush still hovered high in his cheeks. “Why?”

“I…” Mark shrugged. “I can’t explain… I just…” He touched Kian’s lips, catching his friend’s hand along the way, bringing it down between them. “You’re beautiful.”

A grin appeared on Kian’s face, lighting up the room. Or maybe that was the dawn that had broken over the horizon, cascading into the world.

“I’m in love with you.” Kian murmured.

Mark nodded. “I know.” It was the best he could do for now. “I won’t hurt you. I mean… I refuse to. If I can help it.”

“Go to sleep.” Kian whispered after a short silence that was punctuated only by the searching looks Mark had been getting. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

 

*

 

“D’you want tea, coffee, juice, milk or water?”

“Milk thanks.” Kian replied, placing a hand on the small of Mark’s back as he leant past to grab his and Shane’s plates off the counter. It sent a lovely warm and tingly feeling up his spine and Mark had to hold back a smile.

“Shane?”

“Erm... I’ll have some orange juice.”

Mark quickly poured the drinks and carried them to the table, sitting down as Kian placed his plate in front of him. “Thanks Ki.”

“My pleasure.” Kian nodded, giving him a wide smile and sitting down between Mark and Shane, who was tucking into his breakfast like it was his last meal on earth. Kian looked up and rolled his eyes, making Mark laugh.

“So.” Shane said, once he’d demolished a good amount of pancakes and syrup. “When are you kicking us out? Just so I know in advance.”

“I’m gonna stick around.” Kian replied for Mark, glancing at him quickly before turning back to Shane. “Mark and I have an assignment we’ve got to work on.”

Mark felt fantastically lucky that Shane was tired enough to have lost his trick of reading Kian’s mind. Kian was looking at Mark over the table, his eyes showing the thoughts that even Mark could see loud and clear.

He briefly wondered why it hadn’t been Shane that Kian had developed this... thing for. They were close enough, seemed to be one person at times. But then they were almost like brothers, rather than friends. And Shane wasn’t gay.

But then neither was he.

“Okay.” Shane said finally. “I’ll shove off about ten then. Let you get some decent work in.”

Mark and Kian nodded, and Mark smiled as Kian caught his eye. He just knew he was blushing.

 

*

 

Ten o’clock came around slowly, the sense of anticipation making the air heavy. They tried to pass the time in ways Shane wouldn’t think suspicious, Kian getting out the guitar and starting to play, although he refused to go anywhere near Boyzone. This had ended in another argument about music, and then a reopening of the Stephen Gately debate. By the time Shane went home, Mark’s heart was beating in his throat.

They went upstairs to Mark’s room. Mark’s family had woken up not long ago and Mark hardly relished the idea of having this conversation where they could hear him. Supportive as they might be, he didn’t think they’d be overjoyed at having a son who... loved another boy.

Love. There was a scary prospect. He did love Kian, as much as a friend could love a friend. But there was more. He wanted him, respected him, wanted to protect him, thought about him all the time. Kian saturated his thoughts, was never very far from them. Mark wanted to cry every time a new bruise showed up. Wanted to kiss him, hold him, make everything better.

Was that love? He supposed it might be.

“What are you, gay now?” Kian asked, looking at Mark from where he had leant against the wardrobe, declining the offer of a seat when Mark had sat down on the bed. His arms were crossed, guarding himself.

Mark shook his head. “No.”

“Then why did you kiss me?” Kian voice cracked. He turned away, inhaling deeply. Mark bit his lip.

“I… I wanted to.” Mark replied. “I mean… there was nothing I wanted to do more, y’know? I just wanted… you.”

“Fuck, Mark.” Kian turned back, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “So for a second you wanted me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“You.” Mark whispered. He put his face in his hands. “I’m not supposed to feel like this. I don’t like feeling like this.”

“Well I don’t like wanting you either, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Kian spat. “You know what it’s like seeing you with fucking Sarah every day? Christ, you don’t even like her! Yet I get to stand there wanting you every second of every day, and I never get a second look!”

“Kian…” Mark stood, wanting to go over and pull Kian close. But Kian’s body language hardly welcomed that. “It’s not that simple…”

“To me it is!” Kian ran his hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to kick something but still having enough control to remember this wasn’t his house.

“I give you more than a second look, okay? From the first second I… I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He trailed off, realising for the first time how true his words were. “I wanted to protect you and I wanted… Christ.” He kicked the foot of his bed. “I felt so jealous of Shane, every time he looked at you and knew exactly what you were thinking. I wanted to know all your secrets. I wanted to…” He kicked out again, the solid thud his foot made against the wood of his bed not making him feel any better. He put his hands over his face, covering his eyes, and so didn’t see Kian move closer.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped.

“Mark.”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you…”

“Mark, shut up and look at me.” He did so, slowly, frightened of the anger that would be in Kian’s face. Not wanting to see that hatred, even though he knew he probably deserved.

“What?”

Kian smiled. “Just…” He leant forward, his lips touching Mark’s. Mark smiled into the kiss, despite the desperate urge he felt to grab his nightstand and hurl it out the window. Kian’s hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing. Mark’s arms curled around his waist, unstoppable. Kian was smiling when they parted. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re frustrated?”

“I love you.” Mark whispered, looking down, not able to meet Kian’s eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

A hand ran through his hair.

“Marky?” A nose nuzzled his cheek. Mark pressed into it, loving the sound of his name said so fondly, rolling off Kian’s tongue. “Wanna be my boyfriend?”

Mark hesitated. Did he? Did he really want that? What it would lead to? All the secrets and the lies and the hiding? The agony of not having Kian every second of every day? Of having to be friends in public, lovers in secret?

Did he want Kian?

“You gonna make it worth my while?” He teased, pulling Kian closer against him.

“Eejit.” Kian said fondly, but when Mark looked up the blonde was smiling broadly, eyes bright, whole face radiating joy.

Their lips met.


	6. Chapter 6

Mark and Kian stood awkwardly in the garden of whoever’s house this was. One of Sarah’s friends, Alicia, Eilish, Amy something. Shane had disappeared not long ago when he’d realised that Kian’s cousin was at this party, a girl Mark had never met but whom Shane apparently had had a long time crush on.

Mark didn’t really mind. He was happy standing with Kian. His boyfriend of one whole week.

“This party sucks.” Kian whispered as they stood at the punchbowl. It had taken Mark a lot of convincing for Sarah to agree to inviting Shane and Kian as well, and Mark didn’t know what he’d have done if they’d declined the offer. What he usually did, probably. Sit next to her like a handbag, pretending he cared about what her vacuous friends were saying.

“I know.” He whispered back. “I’ve been to four of these things now, and each one is more torturous than the last.” Kian giggled next to him.

“So dump her.”

“I will.” Mark whispered. “But we have to wait. She’s our front. I can’t just pop in out of the blue and say it’s not working for me.”

“So you’re gonna kiss her and spend time with her?”

“We talked about this…”

“I know.” Kian sighed. “And I know I was the one who said to do it, but… I just hate this. I hate the way she is around you. I don’t want her filthy, manicured fingers on my…” He lowered his voice even more. “…boyfriend.”

Mark nudged him, enjoying the grudging smile that crept onto Kian’s lips. “I like your shirt.” Kian’s grudging smile exploded into a full-blown grin.

“I like your trousers.” Kian whispered back. “Your bum looks nice.”

Mark chuckled, moving back when he realised they’d been getting punch so long it was bound to look suspicious. Kian stepped back too. A hand wrapped around his arm.

“Marky… come over here, baby… Kieran wants to show us his new car…”

Mark followed helplessly, wanting to shout something over his shoulder. Something like ‘save me’. Kian looked at him and Sarah, misery seeping into his face.

 

*

 

When he came back, Kian was gone.

He wanted to scream at Shane for losing him, for being too wrapped up in Gillian, Kian’s cousin. They were kissing when he went over.

“Shay, where’s Kian?”

Shane extricated himself from the blonde on his lap, looking up at Mark, his eyes belying the automatic anxiety he always expressed when Kian was mentioned.

“I thought he was with you?”

“Sarah wanted to show me something. I only left him for fifteen minutes.”

“He’s probably just in the toilet or something.” Shane shrugged. “Go check. If he’s not there, come get me.” Gillian was already trying eat his face again. Mark shuddered, making his way back toward the house. Something was prickling up his spine now, a feeling of apprehension. Something that told him Kian was in trouble, that he needed Mark.

He found Kian in the toilet, as Shane had predicted. When Kian finally let him in, it was to show a face covered in tears, a dark bruise marring one perfect cheek.

“Oh Kian…” Mark squashed into the little room with Kian, shutting the door behind him, not caring who cast a suspicious glance in their direction. “Who did this?” He touched Kian’s cheek, feeling Kian flinch away from his hand. “Who was it? I’ll fucking kill them.”

“No-one. I fell.” The lie wasn’t even heartfelt. Kian looked at the ground. Mark sat down on the toilet, pulling Kian into his lap. “I shouldn’t have come. This was a stupid idea.”

“If I’d known…” Mark was horrified. This was all his fault, bringing Kian into a dangerous situation. There was a reason Kian kept to himself, didn’t mix with large groups. It was self-preservation, and Kian had come here anyway. To be with him.

“It isn’t your fault.” Kian sighed, pushing himself off Mark and going over to the sink, peering at himself in the mirror. “It’s not even that bad.”

“Ki, this has to stop…” Mark reached out, putting a hand on Kian’s shoulder. “You’ve got to tell me. Tell someone. What they’re doing…”

“It’s fine! Just leave it!” Kian snapped before turning back to the mirror, his face red. Tears shone in his eyes.

“Ki.” Mark pressed himself to Kian’s back, pulling him close. Kian went willingly enough. “I love you. I can’t stand by and watch you get hurt.” Kian’s breath caught, and Mark looked up in the mirror, watching his face redden for a very different reason.

“You love me?”

Mark nodded slowly, bending to kiss Kian’s neck, pulling long blond hair out of the way. Kian made a funny noise in his throat. Before Mark knew what had happened, Kian had turned around and pinned him against the wall, kissing him furiously.

Mark groaned. Kian was pressed against him, their bodies crushed together. A hand hooked behind his neck, pulling their lips harder together, the other one trapping his waist and pulling their hips close. They both gasped out loud, Mark able to feel the erection pressed against his thigh.

They hadn’t done this, had had barely enough time to spend with each other. Kian had gone home not long after their discussion on Sunday, saying he wanted some time to think. The week had passed slowly, filled with school and Shane. They didn’t want to tell him yet, they’d agreed. Mark wanted time first, to get used to this, to love Kian on his own terms without other people knowing. And then there had been tonight – Friday night – with Sarah and the punchbowl and Kieran’s car taking up every spare moment.

“Ki…” Mark groaned as softly as he could, acutely aware that they were in a bathroom belonging to someone he didn’t really know, with lots of people downstairs.

“Marky…” Kian moaned back, whimpering when Mark’s arms wrapped around his waist. “God, you turn me on…”

“Want you.” Mark whispered. “God you’re…” He gasped at the feeling of his own erection grinding against Kian’s.

“I’m hard.” Kian finished. “Want you touching me.” He gulped, beginning to kiss Mark’s neck, the ridge of his cock pressing through denim turning Mark on more than he could have ever thought possible. Kian was a boy. He wasn’t supposed to fancy boys.

It didn’t stop him pulling Kian over to the toilet, sitting down on the lid, and guiding his boyfriend into his lap.

“Great location.” Kian teased, feet planted on the floor while he rocked his cock against Mark’s belly. Mark could feel it. He caught Kian’s mouth again.

“This where you want our first time?” He joked, his hand slipping into the back of Kian’s jeans, grabbing the muscular curve of Kian’s arse, squeezing it hard when Kian made a pleased noise in his throat.

“This isn’t our first time.” Kian panted, reaching between them, his hand kneading his own erection through his jeans. “This is getting off.”

“Aw, I could be anyone, could I? Nice to know I’m special to you.”

“You’re special, believe me.” Kian’s mouth devoured his, their teeth clashing, hips rocking together, Kian’s hand caught between them. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too.” Mark whispered. Kian’s hand moved away, leaving his cock free to rub against Mark’s stomach. Mark reached down, feeling how hard Kian was, the feeling of it terrifying in his hand, even through the zip of Kian’s jeans.

“Please…” Kian panted. Mark looked up. Kian’s eyes were heavy, dark. His lips were parted as he breathed hard. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Mark’s tongue darted out, licking it all up, not having a clue what he was doing. He pushed Kian backward, undoing his own fly, not wanting to explain a suspicious stain if he could help it.

Kian groaned as Mark’s cock came into view, looking down at it before attacking Mark’s neck, his hand moving down to lower his own zip. Mark batted it away and did it for him, hesitantly reaching out to wrap his hand around Kian’s cock. It was a strange feeling, someone else’s dick in your hand. But it was Kian’s and… and he felt so perfect.

Kian came quickly, his cries muffled by his lips on Mark’s neck, and Mark followed him over the edge seconds later, driven by the warmth on his stomach, and the sounds Kian made as he found his release.

“Ohhh…” Kian groaned, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder, whole body shaking. “Oh, Marky… that was…”

“Not bad, eh?” Mark managed. That hadn’t been how he’d wanted it, in a perfect world, but there was something about the way Kian had looked at him, wanting him, that made it so wonderful he could barely speak. “I love you.” He murmured, nuzzling Kian’s cheek, wanting to at least make this not about shagging. Kian smiled, lifting his head.

“I love you too.” Their lips met slowly, tenderly, in total contrast to the last few minutes. Kian’s moan was content. Mark felt it fill his chest. “I always wanted you.” He blushed. “You never knew I was there.”

“I wish I had.” Mark murmured. “I think I would have fallen in love with you a long time ago.” He reached up, touching Kian’s bruised cheek. “Let me help you. I want to help you.”

“You can’t.” Even with those two words, Mark could feel Kian pulling away. Mark ran his hand over Kian’s forehead, down his neck, over his lips, down his nose.

“Beautiful.” He whispered. Kian gave him a tentative smile. Mark returned it, kissing his nose. “Let’s go home, okay?”

 

*

 

They walked hand in hand across the dark field, the quickest shortcut to Mark’s house. Mark had already offered his house for Kian to sleep over, partly to give him an excuse to leave when he wanted, partly to stop Kian from walking home on his own, but mostly because he wanted the smaller boy’s presence.

He had been a little apprehensive walking through a dark field at night, but Kian seemed to know where he was going, and this field did back onto his own house eventually. But he could barely see a foot in front of him and it was freezing cold, the last vestiges of Christmas weather still hanging in the air.

Mark shivered slightly in the cold. An arm wrapped around his waist. He smiled.

They were almost at his house. Mark could see the lights in the distance. He felt Kian stop, and ground to a halt, looking at his boyfriend in surprise. In the dark he could just make out a devilish smile.

“What?”

Kian shrugged, still smirking, and lifted his arm to hook Mark’s neck.

“Ah.”

“Mm.” Kian replied, leaning against Mark, standing on his tiptoes so they could kiss. Mark wrapped his arms around Kian’s body, enjoying the way Kian felt pressed against him. His skin was hot beneath his jacket and long-sleeved top, Mark could feel it when his hands pushed up underneath Kian’s clothes, feeling strong muscles shift under the silky flesh. Kian let out a low moan, his lips opening to accept Mark’s tongue.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Kian whispered, groaning when Mark kissed along his jaw. God, Mark wanted him.

“You’re so sexy…”

Kian giggled, pulling away. He was hard again; Mark looked down at the bulge in his jeans, mouth watering.

“You’re a class kisser.” Kian grinned, nudging him lightly when they began to walk again. Mark slipped his hand into Kian’s, their fingers lacing together almost without a seam.

A branch broke in the darkness. Mark looked up, heart automatically beginning to beat faster. Kian squeezed his hand.

“It’s just a sheep or something.”

“I know.” Mark reached out, putting his arm around Kian’s place. “Just startled me, that’s all.”

Another branch broke. Kian paused, looking back. Mark followed his gaze, not able to see anything in the darkness. He thought he heard someone’s voice. Whispering. Kian turned back, pulling away from Mark.

“Keep walking.”

“What is it?”

“Just keep walking, okay?” Kian whispered. “Fuck.”

“Ki…” Mark did as he was told, falling into step beside Kian, trying to keep up. He was walking quickly, not running. Mark reached for his hand, but Kian batted it away.

“Don’t.” Kian said, his voice low, sounding as though he was trying to stop himself from being overheard. “Keep walking. And get ready to run if I tell you to.”

Mark nearly leapt out of his skin as a taunting voice drifted across the field, not very far behind them.

“Eeeeeeeegaaaaaaannn….”

“Faaaaaag…”

Mark watched Kian’s hands curl into fists. Blue eyes caught his, dark with fear. Mark felt his heart leap into his throat, beating fast and hard.

“When I say run, run.” Kian whispered. “I’m serious, okay?”

Mark nodded dumbly, stomach twisting itself into a knot.

“Eeeeegaaaannn… who’s your boooooyfrieeeeennddd…?”

“Look, it’s Feehily!” A voice called. For the first time ever, the sound of his own name made Mark want to throw up. “Hey, Feehily!”

“Run.” Kian said. “Now.”

They took off, racing blindly towards Mark’s house, a bright oasis in the desert. But soon Mark’s chest was hurting, and there were loud footsteps gaining on them. His house was so close now. They vaulted over a low fence and kept running across the next field. They were almost there...

Mark saw Kian stumble, and when he looked back, Kian was lying face down on the grass, desperately trying to get to his feet, but his bad ankle wasn’t holding him up. They were closing in on him now, and Mark grabbed his arm to pull him on. But it was too late.

Arms grabbed his waist, spinning him around, and Mark came face to face with a tall, good-looking boy, his face split in an ugly grin.

“Evening, Feehily.” Michael McCarthy smiled at him. Mark attempted to pull away, but only succeeded into running into someone else. He glanced around. Colin Parkes, a popular boy from Shane’s year, smiled at him, his green eyes flashing with cold mirth. A hand grabbed his wrist, twisting it up behind his back, making him yelp in pain.

“Look…” Kian started, but cut himself off with a grunt. Mark saw him sink to the ground, a fist buried in his stomach.

“Ki!” Mark cried, but Kian waved him away, glaring. Mark understood why as he was slapped hard across the face.

“You trying to help your little fucktoy?” McCarthy scoffed as Mark pressed his free hand to his throbbing cheek, feeling it swell already beneath his palm. “Don’t bother. He deserves what he gets.” His wrist was yanked higher, wrenching his shoulder.

“Please, just…” Kian was trying to get to his feet, but he stumbled when a foot connected with the back of his knee. Mark glanced back, able to make out the face of the third boy. Declan Greene, a shorter, stockier boy from Mark’s year. Mark didn’t think he’d ever said two words to him.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Mark cringed as his already hoarse voice cracked on the last word. “We’ve not done anything to you.”

McCarthy shook his head, caressing Mark’s face in a way that was disgustingly gentle. “You see fag, we feel it’s our civic duty, as citizens like, to make sure that there’s none of your kind hanging about. You understand.” He moved so his face was almost touching Mark’s. “It wouldn’t be right if we let you go. The public could get contaminated, you know. And then there’s the other reason...” He whispered menacingly, pulling back. “Col, mate, show him what the other reason is.”

Mark yelped as his jeans were roughly unbuttoned and yanked down with his boxers. He felt Parkes’ cock press up against his arse and gasped, struggling to pull away. The three boys laughed and McCarthy grabbed Mark’s hands, wrapping a length of something hard and plastic around them.

“Stay still, Feehily.” McCarthy said, crouching down and punching Mark in the stomach. He gasped, the wind knocked out of him. “You don’t want to make me angry.”

“Let go of me!” Mark screamed, kicking out behind him to try and dislodge Parkes. It didn’t work. He felt a fist hit him in the back and cried out in pain. Then the cock was back between his buttocks, but he hurt too much to struggle. He felt a finger trace down his crack and shuddered, trying to move away.

“Leave him alone!” Kian protested, struggling against his captor. “Please just... you can do anything you want to me. Just please don’t hurt him!”

McCarthy let go of Mark. There was no point trying to escape, his hands were bound and Parkes had a tight hold on him. He struggled anyway.

McCarthy crouched down in front of Kian.

“Look at me, Egan.” Mark watched Kian shake his head. A fist caught him in the stomach before Mark could yell out a warning. Kian grunted through his teeth. “I told you to do something, fag. You want me to hurt your boyfriend?”

Mark heard a deep groan. Then Kian’s head slowly rose until he was looking the bigger boy in the eye.

“Say ‘I’m a stupid faggot.’”

Kian whimpered. Mark wondered why, until he saw Greene yank Kian’s wrists up high, behind his back.

“I’m… a stupid… faggot.” Kian managed.

“What are you worth, Egan?”

“Noth…nothing…” Kian coughed, and the defiant blaze in his eyes went out. Mark felt a lump build in his throat.

“Now tell Feehily you’re sorry.” McCarthy said gently, sounding like the world’s most twisted parent. “Because it’s your fault for contaminating him. I don’t like the way he’s slagging around on Sarah with a worthless cunt like you. So you’re going to say sorry to him. Because whatever happens next is your fault.”

Mark was horrified to see Kian begin to cry, the pain of Kian’s crumpling face much worse than the growing stabs of pain in his shoulders. He was wrestled around to face Kian and pushed to his knees.

“I’ll… I’ll break up with her… I’ll…” Mark tried. “I was going to… I… just don’t make him…”

“You’re fucking right you’ll break up with her.” A voice said close to his ear. “But Egan still needs to apologise, or what kind of world would this be?”

“I’m sorry! Please, please I’m sorry! Just leave him alone!” Kian protested, struggling against his captor. “Please just... you can do anything you want to me. Just please don’t hurt him!”

“It’s a good offer, Egan.” McCarthy replied, pretending to think. “But I’ve got a better one. How about we do whatever we want to you and then... we’ll do whatever we want to your boyfriend as well. I think that sounds reasonable, don’t you, lads?”

There was more laughter and then Mark cried out in pain as he felt something – a finger! – edge between his cheeks and into his arse. He shrieked. It felt like a burning brand being forced inside of him and he couldn’t help a tear roll down his cheek as it twisted roughly.

“This one’s still tight.” McCarthy noted from behind him. “What’s wrong, Egan? Can’t fuck your boyfriend? Well that’s okay, cos I’ll do it for you.”

“No!” Kian yelled, still fighting to get free. “No, please don’t! Please!” A hand hit the back of Kian’s head and he went limp.

“Kian...” Mark whimpered, wondering through his pain how no-one had heard them yet. But then, they were in the middle of an empty field, with the closest house being his own. He imagined his parents bursting onto the back porch, seeing him here, running over to save him. Wasn’t that what parents did?

“Mark... I’m so sorry...” Kian whispered, blood running down his forehead and pooling beneath his ear. “Just... I’m sorry.”

“I know...” Mark replied, tears streaming down his face, and then cried out as something much larger than a finger began to push into him.

“Just relax.” Kian said softly. Mark could only just hear him through the blinding agony as McCarthy began to saw in and out, his loud excited pants echoing in Mark’s ear. “It won’t hurt as much.”

The torture seemed to last forever, and Mark was almost comatose by the time McCarthy stiffened and a hot burst of liquid exploded into him, burning his torn flesh. He wanted to shriek with pain, but no sound would come out and he collapsed to the grass in a bleeding, aching mess, barely registering as Greene came in Kian’s mouth beside him.

Parkes spit on them, but Mark didn’t even notice. He only just heard their footsteps disappear across the field.

“Mark...” Kian’s voice. That he recognised, and he flinched weakly as Kian crawled over, untying his hands and stroking his face gently. “Mark... please... are you alright? I’m so sorry I... I couldn’t stop them... I love you so much... please...”

Mark tried to speak but his throat was raw from screaming. He tried to move, but he hurt too much. It was like harsh whiteness all around him, bouncing off and blinding all his senses. Except for pain. That one was coming in loud and clear.

He swallowed with difficulty, his throat stinging, and hesitantly clenched his fist, just to make sure he still knew where his fist _was_. Kian was sat beside him, stroking his forehead and whispering to him between sobs. It seemed like an age before Kian pulled away.

“Mark... I’m gonna go for help. I’ll be back...”

“No...” Mark croaked finally, shutting his eyes. He’d thought they were already shut, until his eyes began to ache. But then everything ached, so that was nothing new.

“Mark?”

“St... stay... here.”

“Okay.” Kian whispered, laying down and putting his head on Mark’s chest. Mark opened his eyes again, staring up at the few stars not eclipsed by the brightness of the houses. They stared back at him with cold indifference, and Mark shut his eyes once more, focusing on the feeling of Kian against his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Mark blinked, whimpering as bright light seared into his eyes, making them burn. He shut his eyes again, relaxing back into... whatever he was laying on. A bed maybe. Questions filled his head. It hurt to think about them. He didn’t think he wanted to know the answers, didn’t want to understand why he hurt so much.

“Mark?” He flinched at the kind voice, and opened one eye slightly to fix on a familiar shape. Hazy, but familiar.

“Sh... Shane?”

“Hey...” Shane said soothingly, and Mark flinched again as something cold and wet landed on his forehead. “Sorry. You’re still bleeding a bit. I’m just cleaning you up.”

Mark nodded, focusing on the gently moving flannel in an attempt to not focus on the pain.

“Ki...?”

“He’s okay.” Shane replied. “He’s in the shower, getting himself cleaned up. He’ll be in soon.”

“Okay.”

The cloth moved away again and he sighed as he felt a hand stroke through his hair. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“All over.”

“I know...” Shane replied. “Ki told me. We’ll sort you out, alright? You’ll be okay.”

Mark nodded, too confused and sore to know whether he would be or not. He was so mixed up. What had happened?

_< <<Eeeeeeegaaaaaaaannnnnn…>>>_

“Mark?” Shane’s voice was soft, soothing. “Hey... don’t cry.”

_< <<...who’s your boyfriend?>>>_

_< <<Just relax... It won’t hurt as much>>>_

Mark felt hot tears drip down his cheek. He couldn’t stop them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. They were just... there. Why?

_< <<I’m sorry! Please…I’m sorry!>>>_

Kian. Kian was... Kian was sorry. Relax.... why? Why? Why did he... did he hurt so much? Why...? Egan... He wasn’t... boyfriend. He and Kian were together. But why...?

_< <<I couldn’t stop them... I love you so much...>>>_

“No...” Mark whimpered, images filling his mind. Michael. Kian on his knees. Grass. The pain. The stars...

“No...”

“Mark...”

“No!” Mark barely even realised he was screaming, his voice thick and hoarse with sleep and raw from last night. “Nooooooo!” He shrieked, kicking and shoving at the hands that landed on him. Another pair of hands, another voice.

“Mark! Calm down! Fuck Shane he’s not...”

One set of hands left him. Mark tried to break free. They were trying to hurt him… they were going to… Kian, he needed to help Kian…

“What are those?”

“Dunno. My sister used to have trouble sleeping…”

A hand was on his chin and he finally shut his mouth, the screams now coming as high pitched keening squeals through his teeth. Fingers pinched at his cheeks, trying to force his mouth open, and he gritted his teeth hard. No!

“Mark... please just...”

“No! Let me go! I can’t... stop! Please... it hurts...!” Mark screamed, back in the field, a loud grunting noise and hot breath against his nape. Kian on his knees. Kian...

Something landed on his tongue, small and bitter, and then liquid flooded his mouth, something cool and glassy against his lip.

“Swallow these...” Kian’s voice. Kian on his knees. Kian whispering.

_< <<I’m a stupid faggot>>>_

“Mark you have to... yeah that’s good... There...”

Spots danced in front of his eyes and he struggled against the sudden drowsiness filling him.

“It’s okay... don’t fight it...

_< <<Just relax>>>_

... relax, love. It’s okay. Just sleep...”

 

*

 

The next time he woke, Mark didn’t open his eyes. He knew he was awake, he knew what had happened, what was the point? He felt something on his chest and reached up to touch it. A hand. Fingers that curled gently around his as others stroked his hair.

“Hey.” Kian whispered softly. “You awake?”

Mark nodded, not trusting himself to speak in case he started screaming again.

“Are you okay?”

“I...” No screaming, that had to be a good thing at least. “I don’t know.”

Kian squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, mate. We had to give you some sleeping tablets. You wouldn’t stop shaking and screaming. It was like a fit or something. We thought you were going to hurt yourself.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Mark shrugged, moving over onto his side, his back pressed into the wall. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt safer with something against his back. “What time...?”

“About five in the morning. You’ve been sleeping a couple of hours.” Kian stroked his hair.

“Okay.”

He knew that should be a big deal, but he couldn’t make himself think so. Nothing seemed a big deal. Not in comparison.

“Mark...” The couch shifted and he felt something warm and Kian-shaped... press up against him and wrap around him. It felt so comforting, and at the same time suffocating. Like he was being held too tight. Like McCarthy had held him. Like...

“No! Let go of me!”

“Mark?” Kian moved away again, his voice frantic, and Mark pressed back into the wall, moving further away on the bed, protecting himself.

“No... please...”

“Okay. It’s okay.” The hand was back on his forehead and Mark relaxed a little, still feeling tense but able to cope with the gentle touch on his face.

“Is he alright?” Shane’s voice.

“Yeah.” Kian whispered back, as if Mark couldn’t hear him. “He’ll be fine. Just give us a second.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Make you some tea?”

“That’d be good. Mark? You want some tea?”

Mark swallowed around his dry throat. “Water...”

There was movement around him and he felt a glass press against his lips, swallowing the cool liquid that extinguished some of the fire burning in his throat.

“Just sip it, love... not too quick. That’s right...”

The glass was taken away again and Mark lay back into the cushions, relaxing again. He heard Shane leave the room, and looked towards Kian, his eyes still shut. He didn’t know why he wasn’t opening them, but he knew he couldn’t. He was afraid of what he might see.

“How did I get here?”

“Shane. I jumped the fence, found a payphone. I was going to take you to your house but…” A hand touched his. “I didn’t know if you’d want your parents. I know I don’t when it happens to me.”

“Ki?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Is... is that what happens? To you?”

Kian sighed heavily, his fingers threading through Mark’s hair. “Sometimes.” He said hesitantly. “Sometimes they knock me around a bit. Sometimes they make me... do stuff.”

“Does it always hurt?”

Kian took a shuddering breath, pausing for a moment before answering. “Yes. It does.”

There was silence for a moment, broken suddenly when Mark heard laboured breathing, followed by a short, sharp sob.

“Kian?”

“I... I’m sorry.” Kian’s voice was choked with tears and Mark frowned. “Don’t worry I’m... I’m just...”

Mark took a deep breath, squeezing Kian’s hand tightly, and opened one eye, looking up at the off-white, slightly cracked ceiling of Shane’s bedroom to get his bearings before turning to look at Kian, who was wiping tears out of his eyes with his sleeve, that large bruise still adorning his cheek and a small amount of blood along his hairline. “Hey.” Kian said, his voice hoarse and tears still trickling down his cheeks. “Sorry. I’m... I don’t normally act like such a girl.”

Mark shook his head, opening his other eye and looking up at his tearful friend. Boyfriend. “No. It’s alright.”

Kian scrubbed his face with his wrists, smiling weakly, and Mark reached out his arms, suddenly needing to hold Kian, to be held. Not too tight, of course. He couldn’t deal with that. But he just needed...

“You sure?”

Mark nodded, and Kian hesitantly sat down next to him, laying facing away from Mark, Mark put one arm around Kian’s waist and the other under his neck. He buried his face in the back of Kian’s silky blonde hair, sighing as the strands tickled his nose. Kian stroked gently along his arms.

“I’m sorry.”

Kian turned over. “It’s okay.” He soothed, stroking Mark’s hair as Mark started crying, his face crumpling in as he sobbed into Kian’s neck. “Hey... it’s okay...”

Shane reappeared moments later, pressing a cup of tea into Kian’s hands as the blonde sat up, Mark moving to rest his head in Kian’s lap. Kian nodded gratefully and Shane sat down on the floor, his mug resting on his drawn up knees, his expression leaving Mark in no doubt that he knew about the changed state of their relationship.

“Do you want anything, Mark?” Shane asked, taking a sip from his mug.

Mark shook his head. He did, but not anything Shane could give. He wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted him and Kian to be a normal couple. He wanted his innocence back, so he could give it to Kian.

But that was too much to ask for.


	8. Chapter 8

The light seemed funny on Mark’s eyes. He’d passed most of the day pretending to sleep, officially waking only to tell his mam that he felt way to sick to go to school. She appeared in the doorway now.

“Honey? You awake?”

He sat up in bed, reaching out for the phone, holding his hand over the mouthpiece until she left the room again, closing the door behind her.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Marky.” Kian said. “How come you’re not in school? It’s been two days.” He paused, and his voice was hesitant when he added: “Are you sick?”

Mark bit his lip, tears pricking at his eyes. “Yes.” It was true. He hurt all over, and his stomach was really unsteady, like a sloshy water balloon. But that wasn’t why he couldn’t go to school. The reason was that if he stepped one foot out of bed, it got worse, his throat beginning to tighten, his hands shaking, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

“Are you alright? What is it?”

“I don’t know. Just a virus, I think.”

“Oh, that sucks.” There was a loud ringing sound in the distance and Kian paused until it finished. “Mate, the bell’s just rung. I gotta go for last period, but I’ll come over after and see how you are, alright?”

“You don’t have to...”

“Yeah I do.” Kian interrupted, and Mark could hear the smile in his voice. “No arguments, alright? I’ll see you this afternoon.”

The phone went dead, and Mark put it down on the bedside table, tugging the blankets up around his neck and tucking them in. That felt better. He gripped the duvet tighter, suddenly wishing he had more layers on. His drawers were on the others side of the room, but he was sure that if he tried to run for them he’d start to feel sick again, and he couldn’t deal with that. But he was beginning to shiver. He needed more layers.

He quickly measured the distance to the drawers with his eyes. Five feet? That wasn’t too far. But there’d be the extra time it’d take for him to get his clothes on. Oh well, he could always put them on in bed, couldn’t he? Yeah, that’d work. Very hesitantly he sat up, his feet recoiling as they touched the cold, hard floor. He took a deep breath. He could do this. He could make it.

He lifted himself up and took a large step, trying to cover as much ground as he could.

_< <<This one’s still tight...>>>_

Mark whimpered and looked behind him, trying to see who had said that. There was nobody there and he studied the bed quickly before realising he’d left his front completely open. He spun back around, panting hard, his head light.

_< <<Hey, Feehily!>>>_

_< <<When I say run…run>>>_

“Kian...” He whispered, looking around for the familiar face an almost falling over with the sudden dizziness. “Where...?”

_< <<Feeeeeeehilyyyyy...>>>_

_< <<Keep walking.>>>_

“Ki... I don’t... where are you?”

_< <<Now.>>>_

_< <<I’m so sorry Mark>>>_

“I can’t...”

_< <<Run!>>>_

Mark dashed for the chest of drawers, yanking the top one open and grabbing as many clothes as he could. He wanted to vomit, but resisted the urge, lurching back to the bed and leaping in, yanking the blankets over his face. He gagged, but nothing came up. His heart raced in his chest, he wanted to cry.

When he had calmed sufficiently he looked down at the clothes he had managed to grab. All sorts. Jumpers, shirts, jeans, tracksuits, even a few school shirts.

He was still shaking, even harder than before.

He put on a jumper. Did that make any difference? No. He still felt cold. Exposed. Next one. A pair of tracksuit pants, tugged on over his pyjama pants. Still bare. Still vulnerable.

Another jumper, a large shirt, some jeans, more jumpers. More clothes. His school shirt, because it was the only one left. More layers. Need more layers. Need...

All his clothes on now, and it felt so uncomfortable. Not because there were five layers squashed against his skin, but because he would give anything for a sixth. Or a seventh.

He tucked the blanket back in under his chin where it had come loose and looked around. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, around the chest of drawers, in a trail towards the bed where he had dropped them. He hesitantly reached out and picked up a beanie that was lying near the head of his bed, scooping it off the floor and then yanking his hand back under the duvet. He put the hat on, not feeling much better, and curled into as much of a ball as he could with so many layers of clothes on.

He shifted slightly, wincing as the duvet caught on the wool jumper, tugging at him and restricting his movement.

_< <<Stay still Feehily. You don’t want to make me angry>>>_

Mark froze, the voice brushing over his ear so he could almost feel hot breath there. He did as he was told, not even turning to see who it was. There was someone there. McCarthy. McCarthy was there. And Parkes. And Greene. Greene, who’d... McCarthy, who’d… who’d…

Suddenly Mark’s body was alive and humming with pain, and he was sure he was bleeding. It felt like he was. Felt like his life was draining away in a river of scarlet, dripping over his tense muscles. But when he shifted his hand under his layers of jumpers, too scared to look down, he could feel nothing. Just his stomach muscles contracting hard under his hand. He bit down on a scream, not wanting to make a sound. Not wanting McCarthy to hear him.

When the pain finally stopped, seemingly hours later, there were hot tears running down his face, staining his cheeks, and he tasted the salt on his lips that mixed with the blood where he had bit down to stop the cries. He relaxed into the pillow again, wincing as his bruised face touched the sweat-soaked cotton. He’d told his mother he’d been beaten up. She had clicked her tongue and given him a lecture about bullies, and all that shit. He’d wanted to tell her the truth, really he had.

But what could she have done? She hadn’t been able to help him, not when he had been alone and frightened in that field. The only one who could help, who could know… the only one that could really understand… was Kian.

He glanced at his clock, the red display flashing scornfully at him. 3:00pm. Kian would be here soon. He loved Kian. Kian would be here, and then it would all be okay. Kian would make everything okay.

It felt like ages that Mark lay there silently, waiting for Kian to appear. A soft knock on his door and the familiar blonde head poked around the door, smiling.

“Hey.” Kian smiled. “How come you’re wearing your hat? It’s not that cold in here.”

Mark shrugged, not able to explain. “What’d I miss at school?”

“Algebra.” Kian’s face twisted into grimace and Mark had to smile. “Oh, and Sarah’s looking for you. I told her you were sick.”

“Thanks.” Mark nodded, not caring about sodding Sarah at all. She was nothing, some irritating insect that kept buzzing around him. Some things were more important.

Kian walked over and sat on the edge of Mark’s bed. Mark’s fingers gripped the duvet tighter around his neck and Kian smiled warily.

“Mind if I join you in there?”

Mark bit his lip. No, he didn’t mind. Kian would make him feel safe, but then he’d have to lift the blankets up. He would be exposed. Kian looked at him curiously.

“Your lip’s bleeding.” He reached out to touch it and Mark flinched away, tightening his grip on the blankets. “Mark? What’s wrong?”

Mark shrugged, shutting his eyes to compose himself before opening them again. “I... I don’t know.”

Kian tipped his head to the side, studying him. “Why don’t you know?” He said finally, resting his hand on top of the blankets, vaguely above where Mark’s hip was.

“Because... I don’t know. I can’t... I feel sick. Every time the blankets... I keep hearing...” He took a deep calming breath. It didn’t work at all. “And I... don’t know.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Kian said softly, his eyes betraying his hurt. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Mark nodded. Of course he believed Kian. He trusted Kian.

“Maybe.” Mark shifted back against the wall, tucking the blankets around him but still leaving enough for Kian to put around himself. Kian kicked off his shoes and slid in, smiling comfortingly, and tugged the blankets around him until he and Mark were pressed together, Mark lying in the circle of his arms.

“Jesus Mark, how many layers are you wearing?”

“Erm... five.” Mark confessed shyly, snuggling into Kian’s chest.

“Why? It’s summer. You must be burning up.”

Mark shook his head. “No. It’s good.”

“Okay...” Kian said slowly, his eyes confused. “Can you at least take the hat off?”

“No.”

Kian sighed and shuffled down until he was face to face with Mark, who pulled the blankets over their heads. Kian smiled, reaching out to stroke Mark’s cheek. Mark pushed into the touch slightly, liking the feel of Kian against his skin. It felt warm. Safe.

“You’re not sick, are you? Not really.”

“I don’t know.” Mark said, feeling frustrated tears prick at his eyes. He didn’t seem to know anything any more. “I just feel like my stomach hurts. And I want to throw up. And every time I get out of bed I seize up. And I don’t know why.”

“Why all the clothes, then?”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t know. I just needed more layers.”

Kian nodded. “They make you feel safer. You don’t want to get up, in case they get you.”

“How did you...?”

”Two years, Mark.” Kian said softly. “Believe me, I know.” He smiled, reaching out to slip his hand under the beanie, gently stroking the hair he could reach. Mark whimpered and pressed into him. “It’ll get better though.” Mark shook his head. “It will. And I’ll be there the whole way. Me and Shane will. We love you.”

Mark felt a tear run down his cheek. It didn’t feel like it was ever going to get better, no matter what Kian said.

“Let’s take this hat off, yeah?” Mark hesitated. “I won’t let them touch you.” Mark nodded after a long moment, burying his face in Kian’s neck as the beanie came off and was discarded on the floor. “There you go, babe.” Kian whispered, stroking Mark’s hair. “See? Nothing’s happened.”

“No.” Mark agreed, tangling his hands in Kian’s shirt and shuffling closer. “But it feels like something will.”

“I know.” Kian whispered. “But it won’t. I’m right here and I’d kill them before I let them touch you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Kian said again, his fingers stroking through Mark’s hair. Mark liked that. It felt like the back of his head was more protected that way, despite the beanie being gone. He snuggled closer, sighing contentedly into Kian’s neck, their legs tangling together awkwardly around the layers of clothes.

“You’re too warm.” Kian said softly, his hand pressing against Mark’s sweaty forehead. “You’re gonna suffocate in all those clothes.” Mark shrugged. He didn’t care. “Come on.” Kian continued. “Let’s get one or two layers off, alright?”

Mark shook his head, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Kian whispered, gently kissing Mark’s nose. “Maybe just one pair of trousers? That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s okay.”

Kian nodded understandingly, pressing his hand into Mark’s back and tugging him closer. Mark smiled and they lay there silently, Kian gently stroking his hair and back.

“Mark?”

“Mmm?”

“Would you mind if I put my hand under your top? Just on your back?”

Mark thought for a moment. A hand wouldn’t be so bad, would it? As long as it stayed high up and nowhere near his arse. He thought he could cope with that. And he could see from Kian’s eyes that it was nothing sexual. Just a need to comfort.

Biting his lip, Mark took Kian’s hand and guided it around to sit high on his back, underneath his jumpers. Kian nodded, understanding the unspoken request that that was where it stay, no lower.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.” Mark replied.

“Tell me if you want me to move, alright?”

“Yeah.” Mark repeated, burying his face in Kian’s shirt again as the hand slowly began to stroke across his shoulders, not venturing any lower. “Thanks.”

Kian nodded and kissed Mark’s hair gently, his fingers running soothingly along Mark’s shoulder blades. Mark sighed and wrapped his arm around Kian’s waist, tugging him closer until their whole bodies were lined up. This was nice. This was safe. He couldn’t have coped if it was anyone else, but this was Kian. Kian loved him and would never hurt him. Could never hurt him.

For seemingly the hundredth time in the past few days he thanked god for Kian. He knew that anybody else probably would have hated Kian for getting them into this, but Mark couldn’t find it in himself to do so. It hadn’t been Kian’s fault. And Kian had had much worse inflicted on him. It felt wrong to blame him for this.

And Mark loved him so much.

“I love you Kian.” He whispered into Kian’s chest, feeling the hand on his shoulder tense slightly against his back in response.

“I know. I love you too. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Mark replied honestly. “Don’t think it is.”

“Well that’s too bad, cos I’m going to.” Kian argued good-naturedly. Mark smiled, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. Kian needed to see that it wasn’t his fault, that Mark trusted him.

“Kian?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hot. Gonna take my jumper off.”

“Okay.” Kian moved back as Mark hesitantly ran his fingers along the hem, looking up at Kian for approval. Kian nodded and Mark looked back down. He couldn’t do this.

“Kian I...”

Kian reached down and took one of Mark’s hands. “Do you want me to do it for you?”

Mark bit his lip, wincing at the pain from the slowly healing cut there. “Yeah.” He said finally, releasing his lip. “Could you?”

Kian nodded. “Sit up a bit?”

Mark propped himself up slightly and raised his arms. Kian slowly tugged the jumper up, looking at Mark carefully, searching his face. Mark tried not to show any hint that he was frightened, as unsure as he was. This was Kian, and he trusted Kian. Plus it was getting a bit warm.

“There you go.” Kian said as the jumper came over Mark’s head, ruffling his hair on the way. Mark nodded and lay back down, pressing close to Kian again. “That better?” Kian asked, his hand going underneath to stroke Mark’s back again.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

There were only four layers left, but Mark felt a little safer now, here, with Kian’s arms around him. He smiled, snuggling that impossible inch closer. They were as pressed together as they could be, considering all the layers of clothing, and still Mark needed to be closer. Almost needed to be a part of Kian.

“It’s raining.” Kian said after a moment, twisting his head to look at the window. “Look.”

He was right. Large drops were starting to roll down the glass, and Mark realised how dark it had become, the heavy thunderclouds obscuring the sun.

“Bollocks.” Kian said. “Should’ve brought an umbrella.”

“You don’t want to go home yet, do you?” Mark said anxiously, pulling back slightly and studying Kian. Kian laughed, kissing Mark’s forehead.

“Course not, mate. Just hope it doesn’t keep raining, otherwise I’ll never get home.”

“You could just stay.” Mark said, resting his head back against Kian’s chest. “It looks like it might be a storm. You can’t go home in that.”

“That’s a good point.” Kian said, pretending to think. “Personally I’d much rather stay in this warm bed then run home in the rain. Might get hit by lightning. Then you’ll miss me.” He sighed dramatically. “But I can’t possibly stay all night. I have to go to school tomorrow.” He pouted, looking questioningly up at Mark. “What am I to do?”

Mark giggled, kissing Kian’s neck quickly. “Think you should stay here, and just leave a bit early tomorrow morning so you can get ready for school. Then you won’t get hit by lightning.”

“You know what, Feehily? I think that’s a grand idea.” Kian laughed. “I’m so proud of you for having thought of it.”

“Well I am pretty intelligent.” Mark joked, raising his head to look at a laughing Kian. He sat up, kissing Kian chastely on the lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.” Kian smiled and pecked Mark’s cheek. “What time is it, anyway?”

Kian looked behind him at the alarm clock he was blocking from Mark’s view. “Four-thirty.”

Mark smiled. “You hungry? I haven’t eaten all day.”

“All day? Mark...” Kian frowned.

“I wasn’t hungry.” Mark protested. “And don’t make that face. You look like Shane.”

Kian giggled. “Old worry-wart? Bless him, he tries.” A hand ran over Mark’s face, caressing him. Mark yawned. “You tired?”

Mark shrugged. “Haven’t been getting much sleep.”

Kian’s face turned stern. “Right, that’s it. Food, then bed. You’re not taking care of yourself properly.”

“You gonna take care of me?”

Kian smiled, pulling Mark close, kissing his hair.

“I’ll do my absolute best.”

Mark was just about to do something, he didn’t know what. Hug Kian, kiss him, burst into tears. Something. But Kian distracted him by standing up and pulling away.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“You need to go downstairs and ask your mam if I can stay, don’t you?” Kian smiled. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

“You…” Mark snorted. “…are a manipulative git.”

“I’m so hurt.” Kian placed a hand dramatically over his chest and used the other to brush fake tears from his eyes. Then he reached out both hands, palms up, inviting. Mark looked at them for a second. Then he sat up, taking Kian’s hands.

Kian pulled him up and into a hug. Mark didn’t feel nearly as scared as he had thought he would. Just a sense of persistent uneasiness, as though he was safe for now, but didn’t know what might be right around the corner. Kian stroked his back.

“Love you.” Mark whispered.

“Ditto.” Kian replied, pulling back. Mark had the desperate urge to pull Kian back against him, but Kian was still holding his hand, so he supposed that was okay. For now. “But if we go downstairs, you do realise your mam’s going to ask about your twenty layers of clothes.

“It’s only four.” Mark retorted.

“Still.” Kian put his arms around Mark and looked him in the eye as best as he could with the height difference. “Come on, Marky. I’m here, alright? You know that?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Sorry.”

Kian sat back down, tugging Mark beside him and throwing his arm around Mark’s shoulders. Mark liked that better. “It’s just your mam and dad and your brothers. You’ve known them since forever. And me. Nobody down there will hurt you.”

“I know.” Mark sighed. “I know. I’m just… being stupid. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not stupid.” Kian’s voice was sharp for a moment. “Don’t say that.”

“I am!” Mark protested. “I’m stupid and frightened and I feel like I have no control over anything! I hate how I feel!” He felt tears rise and turned away, not wanting to prove his own weakness by beginning to cry. Kian’s hand slipped from around his shoulders. Mark shuddered, feeling panic rise up in him again.

He wiped his nose, trying to resist the urge to lash out or burst into tears like an idiot. He felt so helpless, especially when he saw how calm Kian was. He was acting like a baby, and Kian had been dealing with this shit for two years. Two years! Mark couldn’t even cope with a nasty ten minutes. He related this to Kian, who smiled weakly.

“You think so? You think I’m well adjusted?” Kian laughed harshly. “Mark… in the first six months I tried to kill myself twice. You call that coping?”

“You… you what?” Mark put a hand over his mouth, trying to hold back a shocked gag. Images flashed through his head. Blood, tears. Kian, dead on the floor…

“I went into the bathroom, swallowed a bottle of pills, and then lay on the floor waiting to die. I was fourteen fucking years old. Okay? That’s the joy of being me. So don’t sit there and say you’re stupid because you’re having a panic attack.”

Mark was speechless. All he could do was reach out, touch Kian’s hand. Feel Kian, solid and alive beneath his fingers. The hand turned up, curling into his.

“I don’t want that happening to you.” Kian whispered. “I don’t want you ever feeling like that. It kills me to think that I let that happen to you. That I was there and that I couldn’t stop it. It kills me. I don’t want you doing what I did because I couldn’t stop you being hurt.” He fingered the small scar on his face. “When that didn’t work I threw myself off our roof. Me, being an idiot, didn’t think to put a rope around my neck first. I ended up in hospital with a broken arm and idiot doctors asking how I felt about things. Not that that lasted long. I don’t think my family were really fussed on paying for psychiatrists’ bills anyway, not when I’d done the damage myself. I mean, really, I was probably only doing it for attention anyway.”

Mark swallowed, looking down at his hands, trying not to imagine Kian sprawled out on his own front lawn. Vomit rose in his throat. He covered his mouth with his hands, not wanting to have to leave the room to get to the bathroom. Swallowing it back down took all the effort in the world.

He looked at Kian, not able to think of a single thing to say. Kian stood up, his face troubled, but when he looked at Mark he managed a faint smile. Mark smiled back, taking his hand.

“I’m going to take care of you.” Mark whispered. “I don’t know how, but I will.” He stood up, pulling Kian into a hug.

“Not if I take care of you first.” A gentle kiss touched his cheek. “We’re in this together, you and me. No-one else… they don’t understand.”

“No.” Mark agreed, thinking that was about the truest thing he’d ever heard. “No, they don’t.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Thanks so much for letting me stay, Mrs Feehily.” Mark was amazed. Kian was always such a different person when an adult was around. He was like a chameleon or something, changing to match his surroundings. Of course you could see straight through him if you knew him well enough.

“Now there’ll be no more of that, Kian Egan.” His mother said sternly. “It’s Marie and Oliver; I don’t know how many times I’ve told you.”

“I’m sorry Mrs Feehily.” Kian said, making Mark’s mother glare cheerfully. “Thanks for letting me stay, anyway. I’m sorry it was at such short notice.”

“That’s alright, lad.” She said, nodding. “We couldn’t have you walk home in this storm, could we? I’d never forgive myself. And you’ve got Mark out of bed, finally. I thought that boy was on his death bed.” She threw a teasing smile at him.

“Well, thank you anyway.” He said, smiling and nodding before going back to his meal. “Mmmm... this is really good.” He said around a mouthful of food, then smiled sheepishly and swallowed before speaking again. “Sorry.”

“That’s quite all right. It’s nice to have somebody appreciate my cooking for once.” Mark laughed and shook his head.

“I appreciate it!”

“Would it kill you to say so?”

“Yes!” Mark replied, sticking his tongue out. He was glad he’d come down after all. He was having a good time with Kian and his family, and anyway, he knew Kian would protect him. Would understand. He took off his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair.

“It’s good that you’re feeling better, lad.” Mark’s dad chipped in. “Been missing your teenage insolence for the past couple of days.” He turned and ruffled Barry’s hair playfully. “Been having to cope with this one. Too polite for his own good.”

“Dad...” Barry whined, smoothing his hair back into place. “You’re messing up my hair!”

“Sounds like someone I know...” Mark joked, turning to Kian and giving him a meaningful stare. Kian laughed, shoving him lightly with the hand that wasn’t holding his fork.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, Mark.” Kian retorted, winking. “It’s not your fault you’re a vain bugger.”

After dinner, they sat on the couch to watch TV, Kian and Mark on one couch, with his mother and father on the other. Barry and Colin were laid on the floor, arguing quietly over a board game.

“So Kian…” Mark’s dad started. Mark and Kian were sitting on the same couch, and Mark had had to resist more than once the urge to reach out and take his boyfriend’s hand. “What are your plans for after you leave school then?”

“I think I want to teach music, like my brother.”

“Oh, you’re very musical are you?” Kian nodded. “Do you play instruments?”

“Piano, guitar, drums. Bit of everything really.”

Mark’s dad smiled. “You must be very talented. Our Mark’s a bit musical himself. Amazing voice.”

“Dad...” Mark whined, blushing red. He hated to hear people talk about his ‘talent’. He knew he had an okay voice, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to go around bragging about it. It was just one of those lucky things that had happened; it wasn’t like Kian, where he’d actually had to learn to do anything. It didn’t really seem that special, from his point of view.

“I know.” Kian said. Mark gave him a look. “What? You do!” Mark stuck his tongue out, feeling the blush spread to his neck. “Me and Shane Filan have been singing and playing together for ages. Mark’s just started joining us.”

“Really? Why didn’t you say, Mark? You thinking of doing anything with that, boys? Shane’s quite a talented lad.”

“He is, but I don’t know. Shane wants to be like a proper singer and everything, but it’s not really my thing. I just want to play.”

“How about you, Mark?” Mark’s dad turned to face him, and Mark felt as if he was being accused of something. “You decided what you want to do yet? This could be a good opportunity to meet people, expand your social circle a bit. No offence to you, Kian, but he’s not got many good friends; and what with getting picked on...”

Picked on. Yeah. That was what had happened to him.

_< <<Show him the other reason >>>_

Mark had to stop himself from turning around. It was just his imagination, he reminded himself. There was no point getting worked up. It was just his imagination.

“Mark?”

Mark shrugged, willing his father to shut up. “I don’t know.” Jesus, he was suffocating. Why couldn’t they stop asking fucking questions?

Mark’s dad pursed his lips. “Ah well, it’s up to you. It’d be a good experience though and...”

“Oh leave them alone, Oliver.” Mark’s mam thankfully interrupted, slapping her husbands shoulder. They’re only young. They don’t have to be thinking about all that just yet.”

Kian shifted in his seat and Mark used the movement to shuffle slightly closer to Kian without his parents noticing. Kian noticed though, and looked up at him, his fingers brushing Mark’s. Mark bit his lip, nodding at the silent question in Kian’s eyes. Then Kian stood up.

“Come on Mark, I’ll explain that work you’ve missed. It’s a nasty one, so we best get started.” He smiled at Mark’s parents. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I would love to stay down here with you all, but...

“Oh that’s fine.” Mark’s mother replied, not even looking up from her crossword book. “Thanks for helping him, Kian. You’re a good lad.”

Mark shook his head. He doubted his mam would think that way if she knew of their relationship, or what had happened on Friday. What was happening right now. He would never be allowed to see Kian again, and that couldn’t happen. He needed Kian. Needed him right fucking now!

_< <<Feehily!>>>_

Mark raced up the stairs, Kian following him, and collapsed on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth, his hands over his ears, trying to shake them off, get them out of his head.

“Mark!” Kian said right into his ear, his lips touching Mark’s face. “Can you hear me? Please just...”

Mark could hear him, Kian’s voice only just rising over the roaring in his ears. He stiffened as a sudden pain hit him and bit his lip hard, reopening the scab forming on his lower lip. He felt arms encircle him and he shoved them away, moaning softly in agony.

“No... please stop. It hurts. It... I can’t...”

“Mark, what hurts? Where does it hurt?”

“In... in... I don’t... Please... Ki help... don’t let them...”

The pain was there, so real, Kian next to him, whimpering as Declan Greene held his mouth open and shoved his cock in. Kian couldn’t help. Kian couldn’t do anything. Kian was just... there. Not doing anything. A burst of boiling heat up his spine followed by cold grass sticking to his face. And then Kian... Kian couldn’t do anything. Kian wasn’t... was just leaving him...

“Mark!”

Suddenly Mark’s face was stinging, and he shook his head as the pain receded to a dull thrum. He blinked, Kian’s face coming into focus a few inches away. He jumped back, startled.

“Wha...?”

“I slapped you.” Kian explained. “Sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Oh.”

“What happened? It sounded like you were dying.”

Mark shook his head, trying to think, but then simply burst into tears, not sure what had made him do it. Maybe it was the pain still echoing up and down his spine. Maybe it was the voices that were still whispering in the back of his head. Maybe it was that he had no idea what was happening to him, and that scared him to death.

Or maybe it was the fact that he wished he could die for real.

“Oh, Mark...” Kian whispered, pulling him into a hug. “Hey... hey...” But even the soothing whispers weren’t calming Mark. It only put him back in that field, with Kian whispering to him, telling him to relax. “Mark babe... calm down, it’s alright... I love you... its okay...”

“Ki... sorry... bu...but I...”

“You cry.” Kian whispered softly. “You let it out. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Mark sobbed. “It’ll never be okay.”

“It will.” Gentle fingers stroked his hair and Mark turned into the embrace, resting his forehead against Kian’s shoulder as he cried. “It’ll be okay.”

But it didn’t feel like it as he lay there in the circle of Kian’s arms, thanking god that his parents weren’t within hearing range. He kept crying until there were no more tears left, and then he sat there, his whole body hitching with painful dry sobs as Kian gently stroked his back, trying to take away the pain.

“Okay?” Kian whispered as the tears finally stopped. Mark shook his head.

“No.”

“I’ll tell your mam we’ve gone to bed, if you like?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I think that’s for the best.”

Kian nodded and stood up, pulling Mark to his feet. Mark followed and Kian pushed him to the bed, sitting him down and kissing him gently. “Back in a moment.”

Mark nodded and Kian disappeared. He collapsed back on the bed, toeing his shoes off and slipping under the sheets, tucking the blankets back up underneath his chin. He didn’t feel much safer, but he hoped that maybe soon the safeness would start to kick in. He grabbed a sweater off the floor and tugged it over his head, needing more layers.

“Alright.” Kian said as he came back in, shutting the door behind him. “Your mam thinks you’re tired from all this illness you’ve been having. She wanted to come up, but I told her you were already asleep.”

“Thanks.” Mark whispered. Kian smiled and came to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“We’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

Mark shrugged, not wanting to nod in case he was wrong, but not wanting to shake his head for the same reason. He really hoped Kian was right.

“Where do you want me to sleep?” Kian said softly, stroking his hair. “I can sleep on the floor if you like. If you don’t want to risk your parents finding out or if you don’t want me to...” He shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“No I... I think I want you in here. Please.” As freaked out as he was, he knew that Kian was the one thing that would make him feel better. He found, much to his surprise, that he didn’t care if his parents knew, except that they might take Kian away from him. Kian was all that mattered.

“My pleasure.” Kian grinned, ruffling Mark’s hair. Mark grinned. He loved it when Kian did that. It felt like home. “Do you want to get into your pyjamas?”

Mark pulled Kian down beside him, kissing him gently. “No.” He murmured.

“But you’re wearing denim. That can’t be comfortable.”

“Oh yeah.” Mark said, looking down. Kian was right, that’d be a bastard to sleep in. He shimmied out of his jeans and dropped them on the floor, accepting the flannel tracksuit pants Kian handed him and pulling them on under the blankets. “There. I’m good now.”

“Okay.” Kian chuckled. “Mind if I steal some of your pyjamas?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Mark said, cursing himself for not thinking of it. Kian had hardly anticipated staying over, had he? “There’s some old ones in the bottom drawer that are a bit too small for me.”

Kian fetched them and sat back down again, quickly stripping off his shirt and starting to poke the sleeves of the pyjama top back in the right way. Mark watched in fascination as the smooth skin of Kian’s back stretched with the movement of his body, accentuating firm muscle. Without thinking about it he reached out to touch, curious as to what it would feel like.

Kian stiffened as Mark’s fingers made contact with his hip and Mark pulled away, alarmed that he’d done something he shouldn’t.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Kian replied, turning around to look at Mark. Mark watched in awe as one flat nipple came into view.

“For... I don’t know. I should have asked.”

Kian laughed. “It’s a bit late for that now, don’t you think?”

Mark smiled ruefully and Kian reached out to grasp his hand, putting it back on his own hip. “There you go. I’m not expecting anything, just so you know. But you’re allowed to touch if you want.”

Mark nodded, hesitantly running his fingers across Kian’s hip and marvelling at the feel. Kian smiled and tugged on the old cotton shirt, shaking his head as his hair stood up slightly with static. Mark continued to stroke Kian’s skin, his fingers now moving with great trepidation along to Kian’s spine, slipping underneath the shirt and feeling the bump of the vertebrae there.

“Mark?”

Mark paused, worried that he’d done something wrong.

“Er... yeah?”

“Gotta stand up so I can get out of my jeans.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Kian turned and kissed him softly. “You say sorry too much, you know that?” He whispered as he pulled back, his breath brushing over Mark’s lips and making him shudder. “Don’t apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Sor...” Mark bit his lip apologetically. “Okay.”

“Better.” Kian replied, kissing his nose. Mark smiled and Kian stood up, unbuckling his belt and then his school trousers, pushing them to the floor. Mark watched, even more fascinated, as Kian’s boxer-clad lower half came into view, his soft cock just visible through the cheap blue cotton. He licked his lips slightly before turning his gaze to Kian’s face.

Kian smiled, obviously seeing the scrutiny he was under, and tugged the pyjama bottoms up over the boxers, fastening the drawstring tie and laughing as they almost fell down again.

“Too big.” He chuckled, yanking the string still tighter, the material like a parachute around his legs. “What you been hiding in these, Marky?”

Mark giggled, his face heating up, as Kian moved over to slip into the bed beside him. They both smiled, wrapping their arms around one another.

“Mmm... warm.” Mark felt the brush of Kian’s voice over his ear and snuggled further into his neck. “You’re lovely, you know that?”

“You are.” Mark replied. “I love you. More than anything.”

There was the light brush of a kiss against his hair and Mark cuddled in further as a thigh captured his legs, tugging him closer. “Don’t, I’ll get big-headed.” Kian murmured against his hair, sending shivers of hot breath down his spine.

“Too late.” Mark joked. Kian laughed softly, pulling Mark in even further until there was not an inch of space in between them.

“I love you too.” He whispered. “And I swear everything will be alright. We’ll be fine, you and me.”

Mark nodded, kissing Kian’s neck quickly before shutting his eyes and leaning into the warm body wrapped around him. Things would be alright, Kian had said so.

Mark wanted to believe him so badly.

 

*

 

When Mark woke Kian was already up, getting dressed. He obviously hadn’t noticed that Mark had woken, which gave Mark ample opportunity to watch him change. He watched through half-closed eyes, not daring to move, as Kian removed Mark’s old pyjamas, golden skin coming into view, and then pulled on his school clothes from the day before, humming a little tune under his breath.

Mark felt himself harden slightly as Kian bent over to pull up his trousers, his arse sticking up in the air. Jesus, did Kian have a great arse. Mark just wanted to touch...

_< <<I’m a stupid faggot>>>_

...he couldn’t help watching as Kian buckled his belt and turned around.

Mark snapped his eyes shut when Kian turned, not wanting to be caught staring. He heard soft footsteps towards the bed and had to hold back a smile as soft lips touched on his for a moment.

“Love you” was whispered against his lips and Mark couldn’t help smiling this time. Knowing that the game was up, he opened his eyes, smiling up at Kian.

“Hey.” He whispered hoarsely.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” Kian whispered back, bending to kiss Mark again, chastely. “I gotta go or I won’t get to school on time.”

Mark nodded, but when Kian turned away he reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. “It’s only 6:30. There’s plenty of time.”

“Not if I have to get in a shower, there’s not.” Kian replied, sitting back down again and stroking Mark’s hair. “There’s three other people that shower in the mornings. I have to get in first, or there’ll be no hot water, and then I’ll stink, and then you won’t love me.”

“Bollocks.” Mark replied, tugging Kian down for a kiss. “I’d love you if you were fat, hairy, smelly, and had bad taste in clothes.”

“Ditto. I’d have to think that, or I wouldn’t love you otherwise.” Mark slapped him and Kian winked. “Just kidding. You’re gorgeous.”

Mark tugged him down for a last kiss, gently running his tongue across Kian’s bottom lip until he felt his boyfriend shiver. He pulled away. “Go now, or I’ll never let you leave.”

“Not such a bad idea.” Kian gave him a cheeky smile and Mark laughed, pushing him away. “See ya.” Kian stood up and headed for the door. “You coming to school today?” He asked, turning back.

Mark bit his lip, thinking. He’d already missed loads of work, and it wasn’t making him feel any better to lie in bed. He was afraid that the longer he stayed here, the harder it would be to get up in the end. He looked up at Kian questioningly.“I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Only if you want to.” Kian replied, leaning back against the door. “Remember, I’m in most of your classes. The ones that they’re in anyway. They won’t try anything in school.” He smiled sadly. “And they’re not after you, anyway.”

“I’m sor...” Mark shook his head, remembering what Kian had said about apologising. “Yeah, you’re right. Um... maybe I should go in. I’ve probably missed loads of work, and exams are coming up soon, so I’ll have to sort that...”

“I can walk you, if you like?” Kian said after a short pause. Mark looked up at him, Kian was stood there, looking earnestly back at Mark, and Mark had to smile. It felt wonderful to have someone care about him so much.

“You sure?”

Kian grinned. “Twenty more minutes with you? I think I can cope. What time do you normally leave?”

“8:30?

“I’ll be here at twenty past then.” Kian turned back to the door. “But now I have to go, or I’ll stink today, and my hair’ll be all gross. See ya later, Marky.”

Mark smiled as the door shut behind him, burying his face in the pillow and trying to ignore the knot his stomach had tangled itself into.

 

*

 

“Eeeeeegaaaaan…” A whisper from behind him made Mark stiffen, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if it was in his own head. Then he saw Kian shiver and his fists clench on the desk.

Kian bent, writing something on the corner of his page then shifting it to the side so Mark could see.

_Ignore them_

Mark nodded, biting his lip and bending to concentrate on his work. He tried to write an answer, but found that he was too distracted. He didn’t know how Kian did it, act so normal all the time.

“Mark.” Kian whispered, moving his book over so Mark could copy the answers. Mark nodded gratefully, but the words were still incoherent to him. Blurry. He shook his head, trying to concentrate.

“Feeeeehilyyyyyy...”

Mark felt like he was about ready to cry.

A piece of folded up paper landed on Kian’s desk and they both looked up to make sure the teacher hadn’t noticed. He was still scribbling notes on the board, so they looked back down at the piece of paper. Mark was just about to reach out and take it when Kian shook his head. Mark watched curiously as Kian ripped the paper in half and then half again, not reading it.

“Kian...”

Kian shook his head. “Believe me; you didn’t want to read that.”

Mark nodded, turning back to copying Kian’s notes. But then curiosity got the better of him and grabbed one of the torn scraps of paper, writing on the back.

_How do you do it?_

Kian read the paper and his eyes clouded slightly before he turned and wrote back.

_Practice_

Another piece of paper landed on their desk and it went much the same way as the first one, pushed under Kian’s books so the teacher didn’t see the scraps. Mark was curious though. He wanted to know what they had said. No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t want to know what they said, but in the same vein he _needed_ to know. Needed to know exactly what they were saying to them. So when the next note came their way, Mark grabbed it before Kian could, quickly unfolding it.

_Dear Feehily_

_You were good on Friday night. You want it again? Getting a bit sick of Egan. Might have to start looking for a replacement, and you’re first in line. Look out, because we’ll have to do some auditioning._

_Tell Egan good work for spotting you. He’s got good taste. xxx_

He’d just registered the kisses when the paper was snatched from him and ripped up, shoved under the books again, and he looked up to find Kian staring sadly at him.

“Told you not to.”

Mark couldn’t do anything but stand up and run from the classroom, tears pricking at his eyes, his teacher yelling behind him.

He bolted for the toilets, locking himself in a stall and collapsing onto the closed lid of the toilet, burying his face in his bent knees. He thought back to the note, what it had said about Kian. And for the first time since he had known Kian he was filled with doubt. What if that was true? What if Kian was only with him to... to get himself off the hook? He heard footsteps outside the door and put a hand over his mouth, trying not to let whoever it was hear his sobs.

“Mark! I know you’re in there! Open the door!”

“Go away!” Mark shrieked back, covering his ears to block out Kian’s answer. There was none and he looked up hesitantly, starting as someone crashed into the stall next to him.

“Mark!” He looked up as Kian’s head poked over the top of the dividing wall. “Open the door, or I’m climbing over.”

Had Mark not been so upset he probably would have laughed at the awkward way Kian swung one leg over the top and clambered down the wall, dropping completely inelegantly to his feet, one of which collapsed under him, putting him down on one knee. He stood up to stretch his legs before crouching back down again.

“Hey.” He whispered. “You okay?”

“You fucking bastard.” Mark whispered. Kian looked confused. “I can’t believe you went out with me to... to...”

“Oh shit, no.” Kian protested. “You don’t think... Mark... I love you! I would never do that to you. You have to believe me!”

Mark paused. Kian sounded honest enough. He put his hands over his ears, trying to block out all the confusing thoughts that were screaming through his head. A hand touched his foot, which was curled up on the toilet lid. He didn’t push it away.

“They were lying.” Kian said, pulling at Mark’s knees until his feet touched the floor. Kian shuffled closer, crouching between Mark’s open legs, his hands on Mark’s thighs. “That’s what they do. They’re bastards.” A gentle hand caressed Mark’s cheek. “I would never ever do that to you. You trust me right?”

“I don’t know.” Mark sobbed. “I do... but I’m so...”

“You’re confused.” Kian finished for him. “Come here.” He held his arms out and stood up. Mark let himself be pulled into a hug. “There. That’s better. I love you, alright?”

Mark took a deep breath. Kian loved him. Yeah.

“But…”

“No buts.” Kian interrupted. “I love you, and that’s it.”

“Yeah.” Mark said, wiping his eyes and burying his face back into Kian’s shoulder. Kian was right. He loved him, and that was it. But still he was scared. Maybe that part of the letter had been a lie, but what about the other part? The part about doing it again?

The bell rang, startling Mark out of his thoughts, and Kian pulled back. “We better go.”

“I should probably explain myself, shouldn’t I? Before I cop detention.”

“Nah, I told O’Brien you were still a bit sick from the last couple of days.” Mark put an embarrassed hand over his face. He couldn’t imagine trying to explain why he had run out in the middle of class. “Come on, or people will wonder why the two of us are squashed in a toilet together.”

They were about to step out of the stall when they heard voices just outside. McCarthy, Parkes, Greene, and another boy. He recognised the voice. Peter Ryan, another boy from Shane’s year.

“Jesus, Pete, you should’ve been there. Best one I’d had in a long time. You’d never think it to look at him, fat little swot.”

Pete laughed at McCarthy’s words. “Good, eh? You’ll have to give me a go next time.”

“No way, he’s mine next.” Greene interrupted. “We already said. You promised.”

McCarthy laughed. “Alright! Jesus! You wanna draw up a fuckin’ schedule or something?”

The other three laughed and Mark shuddered, allowing Kian to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at his boyfriend in shock and Kian pressed a finger to his own lips, silencing him.

“Love you.” Kian mouthed.

“When you thinking of doing it?” Peter said.

“Saturday maybe? Jump them on the way to Filan’s. They’re there every Saturday.” McCarthy snickered. “You can have Egan if you want, Pete.”

“Yeah, but I only need one end. Who wants the other one?”

They all burst out laughing and Mark turned, burying his face in Kian’s shirt. Kian stroked his back gently, kissing his hair. The four boys crashed out of the bathroom moments later, leaving Mark sobbing into Kian’s chest.

“It’s okay.” Kian whispered. “We’re staying home. They won’t get us. Marky…” Kian pulled up Mark’s chin, forcing them to look at each other. They looked at each other for a moment, Kian studying him. “You got much money saved up?” He said finally.

Mark shrugged. “Yeah. Few hundred I think.”

“Good, cos we’re going away this weekend. You and me.” Kian smiled, stroking Mark’s cheek. “We need to get out of here, I think. This is killing both of us. We’ll go to Dublin, get as far away as we can. I’ve always wanted to go to Dublin, how about you?”

Mark smiled, leaning his head against Kian’s shoulder. Somewhere in the distance of his mind the clouds began to break, allowing through a few rays of sunshine. Kian’s hand ran through his hair.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

“We’ll make up some reason for going, for telling our parents. Don’t tell anyone except them and Shane.”

“Please tell me you’re not joking.” Mark implored. “It sounds too perfect.”

Kian chuckled. “You’re perfect.” He pulled Mark closer for a final squeeze before letting go, pulling back and looking him in the eye. “Come on, we’re late for French.”


	10. Chapter 10

The rest of the week passed in blur. Mark barely paid attention in class, spent most of his time worrying, ears pricked for the slightest noises behind him. There were so many were times in class when he wanted to reach out, take Kian’s hand, draw some comfort, but he seriously doubted that would make it better for them.

Shane came to see them off at five o’clock on Friday. They stood at the train station, Shane and Gillian between them, trying very hard not to look like any sort of couple. Shane was taking Gillian to the movies after this.

They had gotten onto the computers in the library and managed to find a cheap motel on the internet, one which had a room left. It had been tricky at such short notice but they’d managed it, selecting one close to town but not right in the middle of it. There was a bus that would take them into the city centre. Kian had sorted it all.

Mark had been surprised to find himself genuinely looking forward to the trip, above and beyond the main reason they were going. It was a nice idea, he and Kian together, on their own, free to do whatever they liked. For the first time in their very short relationship, Mark felt like a real couple. The kind that did things together and spent time together.

The train pulled in. Mark smiled, his heart fluttering, and turned to look at Kian, who grinned back.

“See ya, mate.” Shane said, pulling Mark into a hug. “Take good care of him, alright?”

“I will.” Mark promised, hefting his bag while Shane hugged Kian.

The clambered onto the train when it pulled up, squashing their bags under the small table in front of their seats. They hadn’t packed a whole lot, they were coming back Sunday night, and when Mark saw the amount of people squashing onto the train he was glad. He hardly relished the thought of having to find a place to put two suitcases. They were lucky they had seats!

They talked for a while, played cards for a while, but as night fell Mark began to feel tired, his recent sleeplessness catching up on him. Kian must have noticed because he was gathered into strong arms and he laid his head on Kian’s shoulder, thanking god that there was no-one on the train that they knew.

“You tired?” He murmured, raising his head slightly to look at Kian.

“I’m fine.” Kian replied, ducking his head to kiss Mark gently. “You sleep, alright? I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Mark nodded, resting his head back on Kian’s shoulder as kind hands stroked his back. The last thing he heard was Kian whispering to him.

“I love you.”

 

*

 

“Number 12.” Kian looked at the key and then the door. “Here we are.” Mark followed him inside, yawning sleepily as Kian tossed the key onto the counter and came up behind to wrap his arms around his waist. He was absolutely knackered, his bones just about turned to jelly with fatigue

“You’re tired.”

“Yeah.” Mark yawned again as Kian hugged him tight. “What time’s it?”

“About ten-thirty.” Kian let go and tugged him towards the bed. “Come on. Into bed I think.” Mark let his shirt be removed and an old pyjama top from his bag be tugged on. How was that for service? He didn’t even have to dress himself. “There you go. Jeans.”

Mark lifted his hips so Kian could yank them down, then pulled on the tracksuit pants Kian passed him. Kian lay down next to him, smiling.

“There. Bedtime.” Kian whispered, leaning down and kissing him. Mark returned it, letting his tongue slip out to play with Kian’s for the first time in ages. Nothing seemed so scary here, far away from Sligo. Like everything that had happened was just a bad dream. He reached up and tangled his fingers in Kian’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him lazily, enjoying what he had been too scared to allow himself all week.

“Mmm...” Kian sighed as he pulled away. “Come on. You get into bed. I’m gonna go have a shower.”

Mark nodded, shuffling under the blankets and letting Kian cover him up. Kian sat for a moment, gently stroking his hair. Mark had discovered in recent times that Kian loved touching his hair, and Mark was more than willing to oblige. He loved the feeling of careful fingers running over his scalp. It felt safe.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Kian replied, reluctantly standing up and heading for the bathroom. “Go to sleep, alright?”

Mark nodded, turning onto his side and listening to the water start to run, Kian’s soft singing just rising above the noise. Backstreet Boys. Mark had to hold back a laugh. He stared at the light peeking out from under the door, imagining what Kian was doing in there. He imagined Kian standing under the blasting water, head thrown back slightly, fingers running through his hair, droplets of water trickling down his chest, stomach...

Mark shuddered, feeling himself harden slightly. Without knowing what he was doing, he pushed back the blankets, standing up and heading for the door. He pressed his ear against it, listening to water thunder down over the tiles and Kian singing. Boyzone now. Ha!

Mark giggled, the laugh turning into a yawn. But still he stood there, listening to the sounds of the water change slightly as Kian moved away from the water and then under it again.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on the doorhandle, pressing down slowly. The first thing that hit him was a blast of steam and he waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear it.

“Ki?”

“Mark?”

He could just see Kian through the mist, his head and chest poking out from behind the cheap, plastic shower curtain.

“What’s wrong?” Kian’s face was concerned. “Are you okay?"

“Yeah. Just… missed you.” Kian grinned, ducking back out of view, under the water. “Mind if I stay in here?”

“Course not.”

Mark heaved himself up on the counter, leaning his back against the mirror. He could just see Kian’s silhouette moving behind the curtain, his hands reaching up to run through his hair. “Thought you were tired?”

“I was. But I heard you singing and…”

“You’ve discovered my dirty big secret have you?” Kian replied, laughing. “Well in my defence, I don’t actually _own_ any Boyzone albums. Think Shane must be rubbing off on me.” He laughed again, and Mark watched as he bent to pick a bottle of conditioner off the floor.

Kian looked beautiful in there, even if Mark could only see the barest impression of him, shadow shifting behind the blue curtain. He bit his lip, a feeling of guilt crawling over his skin. He felt so useless, not able to give Kian what he wanted. Kissing was fine, if it wasn’t too intense, it was just that every time Kian touched his skin he thought of…

But that was stupid. Kian would never hurt him. Kian loved him.

“I love you.” Mark said quietly, resting his head against the mirror, feeling the cold through his hair, a stark contrast to the hot steam pushing against the rest of him.

“You say something?” Kian called over the thunder of the water. Mark smiled.

“I love you.” Mark said louder. He practically felt Kian’s smile, even if he didn’t see it.

“I love you too.” Kian called back.

“Kian?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if... if I came in with you?”

Kian’s shadow froze against the curtain. Mark cursed himself, biting his lip. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that… “In what sense?” Kian said finally, body beginning to move again, slowly, like machinery starting up.

“What do you mean?”

Kian’s head poked out from behind the curtain. “I mean… I know things are hard and I don’t want to push you or…”

Mark shook his head. “Not for that. Just wanted to come in there with you. Sorry. You don’t have to say yes.”

Kian laughed, running a hand over his face to stop water dripping into his eyes. He raked his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face. A few suds clung to his chest.

”Get in here.”

Quickly Mark shed his pyjamas, draping them over the towel rack so they wouldn’t fall in the small puddles dotting the floor where the water had escaped the shower curtain. He felt exposed now, and had to take a few deep breaths before pulling back the shower curtain. What if he wasn’t enough for Kian? What if Kian didn’t fancy him, after all this? If he was fat and ugly and useless?

“Hey, sexy.” Kian grinned, stepping back under the water. Mark smiled, climbing in, the water washing away his fears for a moment. “Come here.” Mark stepped closer, allowing himself to be pulled towards Kian, who turned him around and reached for the shampoo. He felt the oily liquid lather against his hair and leaned back into Kian, loving the feeling of Kian’s fingers massaging his scalp.

“Okay. Rinse.” Mark was tugged back slightly under the water and Kian’s hands continued their ministrations, teasing the suds from his hair. “You know, I’m glad we came away.” He continued, and Mark shivered as he felt fingers run up the back of his neck. “This is nice, just you and me away on our own. We should do this again.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” Mark turned around, closing his eyes so he could look up into the stream of water. He felt Kian press against him, slippery and warm from the water, and didn’t flinch. A kiss landed on his neck, loving, no expectations. Mark ran his hand up Kian’s back, feeling the muscles there. He looked down, opening his eyes.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Mark replied, ducking his head so he could kiss Kian. For the second time that night he felt a soft tongue touch his lips, and he parted them to allow it access, meeting it with his own. Kian moaned softly in his throat, his cock hardening against Mark’s thigh. Startled, Mark pulled back in surprise.

“Sorry.” Kian stepped back, picking up the conditioner, a visible flush rising to his cheeks, though Mark couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or the heat of the water. “I’m not expecting anything, alright? Showering together does not mean we have to do anything else. Even if you are the sexiest bugger on the planet.” Mark blushed slightly as the conditioner was run through his hair, Kian falling into silence. All too soon his hair was done. Kian picked up the soap. “Want me to do your back for you?

Kian’s fingers massaged his back and Mark felt an involuntary shudder run up his spine. Against his best intentions, he felt himself harden slightly and pushed back into Kian with a whimper as the firm touch moved to his hips.

If Kian heard, he ignored it, and handed Mark the soap. “Here you go. You can do your front. I won’t be able to stop myself otherwise.” His voice was teasing and Mark grinned, starting to rub the soap over his arms and chest. Kian winked and stood back under the water, closing his eyes and letting the water run over him until Mark pushed him out of the way to rinse the soap off.

Kian stepped out of the shower, leaving Mark to scrub the soap off as quickly as possible, not wanting to be left behind on his own. But when he went to step out, Kian was stood there, a white towel held for Mark to step into.

Another towel was scrubbed over his head and he laughed as Kian reached up and styled the wet hair into odd little spikes. “There you go. Gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Mark teased, straightening his hair out and sticking his tongue out as Kian pouted. “Oh stop it.” He used the same towel to do Kian’s hair, and then stroked his fingers through Kian’s chin-length locks. “You’re hair’s getting really long now. You gonna cut it or let it grow?”

“Dunno yet. Thought I might leave it. What do you think?”

“I like it long.” Mark bent and kissed Kian’s hair. “Sexy.”

Kian smirked. “But you’d think that if it was short.”

“That’s true. But I like it long, cos I can do this...” Mark bent and kissed Kian full on the mouth, tongue slipping over Kian’s as his fingers stroked through the long blonde hair. “See?” He whispered as he pulled away.

Kian laughed, his eyes slightly darker. “That’s it. It stays long.” He took Mark’s hand. “Bed.”

Mark followed him to the bed, watching Kian’s bare arse sway temptingly in front of him. He thought back to their one brief encounter, the way that had felt in his hands, so round and perfect. He smiled at the memory.

“What you smiling at?” Kian teased, tugging on a clean pair of boxers. Mark shook his head.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Shouldn’t do that. You’re not used to it.”

Mark snorted, climbing into bed and pulling the blanket over him. He didn’t even realise until Kian joined him that he hadn’t put any clothes on. Kian grinned.

“You want something, do you?”

Mark pulled the blankets higher, wishing he had more courage, that he wasn’t going to disappoint Kian so badly.

Kian’s hand curved around his chin, pulling his face up. A kiss landed on his lips, surprisingly chaste.

“You look exhausted.” Kian murmured. “Go to sleep, baby.”

Mark nodded, feeling no less awful. He pulled Kian close, their bodies separated only by the material of Kian’s boxers. Kian’s tucked his head under Mark’s chin, kissing his chest, arms wrapping around Mark’s waist.

“I love you.” Kian yawned. “I’ll kill them before they touch you again.”

“But what if you can’t help it?” Kian shuddered, but didn’t reply. Mark frowned. “Ki?”

“We’ll think of something.”

“But what if...?”

Kian interrupted, shaking his head. “We’ll think of something. Now go to sleep.”

Mark did as he was told, lying back as Kian shut his eyes and cuddled into his chest. He listened as Kian’s breaths evened out, but he could tell that his boyfriend wasn’t sleeping. He still wasn’t sleeping when Mark finally dropped off, over an hour later.

 

*

 

Mark was woken the next morning by the sounds of the television, and he sat up slightly to see Kian sitting on the end of the bed, watching an old Bugs Bunny rerun, his chin in his hands, elbows rested on his knees.

“Morning.” Kian jumped slightly at Mark’s voice and then turned around and smiled at him.

“Morning. They don’t have MTV here. It’s crap.”

“Well you do get what you pay for.” Mark crawled over to sit behind Kian, his thighs cradling Kian’s hips and arms around his waist. Kian leant back, stroking his arms, and Mark leant down to place a kiss on Kian’s neck. “What time is it, anyway?” He asked, fixing his eyes on the television but not really watching it.

Kian checked his watch. “Only about seven. Hi.” He added when Mark kissed him. It was a nice kiss, their lips meeting slowly, tongues tasting each other, hands roaming over skin. It was nice, but… not enough. Not close enough.

Mark could feel himself hardening as the kiss progressed, feel his skin burning for Kian, for Kian’s touch. He opened his eyes, wanting to see him while they kissed. Kian’s eyes opened a moment later, leaving Mark wondering if his mind had been read. A smiling gaze caught his, reflecting all the love in the world. Mark wanted to trust it, wanted to believe that Kian would protect him, would always take care of him. That Mark would be able to protect Kian.

The parted for a moment, Kian’s breath puffing over Mark’s mouth, mixing with Mark’s own heavy breaths. They looked at each other. Kian smiling, patient, loving. Not expecting anything but what Mark could give.

“I want you.” Mark whispered. “Please…”

Kian’s eyes widened. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” Mark admitted. “I want to be close to you. I want you to… to touch me. He looked down at his erection, smiling bashfully. “Shit, my body wants you badly enough.”

Kian chuckled, kissing his forehead, pulling him backwards on the bed. Mark found himself atop Kian, laid out flat over him, pressing into him. He couldn’t imagine anything more glorious that the feeling of Kian’s skin against him, Kian’s mouth lifting to capture his, their hands beginning to move slowly over skin. Testing, learning, exploring. Mark felt a groan build in his throat when he felt Kian hard beneath his boxers.

“I’ll do whatever you want.” Kian whispered. “You’re in charge, okay?” He was cut off by another kiss, his hand tightening on Mark’s back. “If anything happens that you’re uncomfortable with…”

“I trust you.” Mark interrupted, leaving Kian’s lips to kiss down his neck, not exactly sure what he was doing but enjoying it nonetheless. His hand was drawn to Kian’s arse, grabbing it and lifting it, hearing Kian moan when his erection was crushed to Mark’s belly.

“Baby…” Kian groaned, hands tangling in Mark’s hair. “Christ, you turn me on…” He arched up, moaning loudly. Mark grinned to himself. Kian was a noisy bugger in bed!

Kian just about shot off the bed when Mark hesitantly licked a nipple, his fingers tangling in Mark’s damp hair to hold him still while Mark bit and licked at the dark nub of flesh, working Kian’s boxers off and tossing them aside. Kian cried out, pushing his cock up into Mark’s stomach.

Mark smiled. He liked this, liked being the one in charge. He felt good even if Kian wasn’t doing much to him. He felt more in control, able to control Kian’s reactions.

“Is this okay…?”

“Yes… yes… Christ…” Kian’s fist thumped down into the pillow near his head before tangling in his own hair, tugging. Mark watched him, loving the way Kian was responding. “Come here…” Kian whimpered, grabbing Mark’s shoulders and tugging him up. Mark went willingly.

Kian was hard. Mark had barely looked down at it, worried that he’d freak it if he were to see evidence of Kian’s excitement. Keeping his eyes locked with Kian’s he ground down, pushing their hips together, moaning at the friction. Kian’s arms wrapped around his neck, his head tipping back as he panted.

“This how you want it?” Kian asked when Mark ground down again, rubbing against Kian, feeling the pressure increase. Mark nodded. This worked. This was good. God, he felt so good…

“Oh god…” Kian gasped not much later, his cheeks flushed, breathing heavy. He had pressed his face into Mark’s neck, hot breath wetting Mark’s skin, making tingles of pleasure radiate out from that spot. None of them, though, were nearly as intense as the feeling of Kian pushing up as he pushed down, rocking against him, making him ache.

“I’m… I’m gonna come…” Kian choked out. “Please…”

Mark almost froze, not sure what to do now. He felt almost ready to come himself. What did he do?

He kept up the rhythm. And in about four seconds Kian let out a hoarse cry, grabbing at him, mouthing his neck, body strung taut. Mark felt his stomach become wet, soaked in heat. Kian whimpered under him, holding on tight while Mark kept grinding, release very close.

When he came, his lips were pressed against Kian’s, words of love whispered into his open, gasping mouth. He collapsed against his boyfriend, feeling hands caress him all over, soothing him down from the heights of his climax.

“Shh…” Kian whispered. “Marky…”

Mark sobbed, burying his face in Kian’s chest, needing the closeness, feeling exhausted after his release. For a moment, everything had disappeared. Except for Kian, kissing him, loving him. He and Kian, stretched out to the edge of eternity.

“I love you.” Kian whispered.

Mark nodded, too speechless to return the sentiment, hoping Kian knew.

When his body had calmed they lay there in comfortable silence, stroking each others skin, exploring bodies, what they’d been too desperate to do before. Mark wanted to memorise every tiny bit of Kian. Every hair, every freckle, every scar.

“We might need a shower.” Kian said finally. Mark grinned.

“Together?”

“Oh, definitely.” A hand caressed his hair, loving. Mark looked up fondly, kissing Kian’s chin. Feeling perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

An hour and a half later they stepped off the bus, dropping their sunglasses over their eyes. It was a clear day, barely a cloud in the sky, and to Mark it felt like a salvation. They were in this new place, where they didn’t know anyone. Where everything was different. Where it was just him and Kian and no-one else of consequence.

“Shopping!” Cheered Kian. Before Mark knew it, he was being tugged over to the first of the three million shops lining the street, his excited boyfriend hanging off his arm like a five-year old.

This was gonna be a long day.

“What do you think of this?” Kian said, coming out of the change room in his latest outfit. Mark shrugged.

“Isn’t that the same as the last one?”

“No.” Kian explained impatiently. “Look, there’s a red seam on the shirt.” He turned and showed Mark the back of the jeans. “And the pockets have zips instead of buttons.”

“Oh right.” Mark said, trying to put as much sarcasm into his voice as possible. “However could I have missed that?”

As much as he had complained, he was having a good time. More than once he’d snuck into the change room cubicles with Kian for a brief make-out session, and it was nice to see Kian enjoying himself so much. He’d never realised just how sad Kian often seemed, not having anything to compare it to. But out here, away from Sligo, Kian was like a different person. And from the looks Mark had been getting all day, he guessed Kian had noticed the same thing about him.

More than once he had thought of one of those married couples, one of them waiting outside the change rooms while the other tried on loads of clothes that all looked the same. If Kian asked him if his bum looked big, Mark thought he might have to slap him.

“Oi, Mark.”

“Yeah?” Mark looked up to see Kian standing there in an outfit he was sure looked the same as the others.

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

“I don’t know.” Kian shrugged, turning back to look at the mirror. “I think it makes me arse look fat.” His gaze turned curious when Mark began to laugh, unable to keep back his amusement. “What?”

Mark grinned, shoving Kian back into the cubicle, shutting the door behind them.

He finally managed to convince Kian to break for lunch and they sat down at the local McDonalds, going for cost over quality, especially with the amount of clothes Kian had bought. Mark had gotten a couple of CDs as well and they sat at a tiny booth with their purchases, tucking into their Happy Meals and arguing over who got the better toy. Afterwards they strolled through Temple Bar, chatting and wandering, not really looking at anything at all, but managing to find a secluded corner behind a building to make out in before they went back to the shops and Kian spent half an hour agonizing over the shirt he ‘hadn’t decided on’, eventually leaving without it, Kian insisting they’d go back the next day when he’d had more time to think.

They headed back to the bus station as night fell, wandering along a short-cut that Kian was swearing by. It was mostly little deserted alleys behind the pubs and they linked hands, sure no-one would see them. They were almost there, according to Kian, when Mark heard voices from around the corner.

“Look, can’t you just leave us the fuck alone?”

Mark stopped short, the words something out of his constant waking nightmares. He felt the sudden urge to vomit. Kian looked back.

“What?”

Mark grabbed Kian’s hand and pulled him back. They stopped and leant against the wall, listening. Mark, who was the closest to the corner, poked his head around to see what was happening.

Two boys were cornered up against the wall, surrounded by a group of about five bigger blokes. The two boys were both blondes. One tall and fairly broad, the other short and slim. But despite the taller boy’s size, they were outnumbered and apparently on the way to a severe kicking.

Mark could hear the sneer in the bloke’s voice and he shuddered. “We don’t want no fags around here, do we lads?”

“No.” was the unanimous response and they all stepped slightly closer. As the shadows shifted, Mark could see that the bigger boy was bleeding heavily from the side of his forehead.

“We’ll just go then.” The smaller one said, his husky Dublin brogue trembling slightly, even though he was obviously trying to be brave. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Well you should have thought of that before you and your boy brought your disgusting habits around here.” The man with the sneering voice said. “We’re going to have to teach you a lesson."

“Shit.” Mark whispered, looking down at Kian for help. “Ki, we have to...”

Kian nodded. “I know... um...” He flinched as the smaller boy was punched in the stomach and doubled over, the others closing in on them as the bigger one moved in front, trying to protect him.

Thinking quickly, Mark let go of Kian’s hand and stepped out from behind the wall. The bigger boy spotted him and Mark lifted his finger to his lips, indicating that he should be silent. He pointed to the small alleyway down beside where the group was and the tall blonde nodded slightly, trying not to look conspicuous to the men crowded around.

“Fuck!” The smaller boy yelped as he was kicked at, luckily able to dodge the foot that flew out at him.

“Hey!” Mark yelled, waving his hands until the men turned around to look at him. As soon as their backs were turned, the bigger boy grabbed the smaller one and began to run, dragging him along. Mark and Kian began to run too, following Kian’s short-cut out towards the street. They heard footsteps behind them and ran harder, bursting out into the crowded shops and ducking into the closest one, a shoe store.

They hid behind a shoe rack, and watched as two of the men stopped in front of the store and looked from side to side before continuing on down the road, disappearing into the crowd.

“Fuck!” Kian gasped, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He shook his head. “You crazy bastard! I can’t believe you did that!”

Mark laughed breathlessly. “Neither can I, actually.” Kian stood up, pulling him into a hug and Mark smiled into his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you.” Kian said, kissing his neck. “It was really sexy.”

Mark giggled, before realising they were just about making out in the middle of a shoe store. He pulled away and tugged Kian out of the store by the wrist.

“Come on. We’ll miss the bus.”

They ran along towards the bus station. But just as it came into view, they stumbled to a halt, watching helplessly as the taillights of the bus disappeared around the corner.

“Fuck.” Kian groaned. “When’s the next one?”

“Not for an hour.” Mark replied, looking down at his watch. “Bollocks.” He sat down in defeat on the bench, not even smiling as Kian sat next to him. Kian sighed and threw his arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“Do you want to go for some dinner? I’m starved.”

Mark bit his lip. There wouldn’t be another bus for an hour, and he was starving as well. They hadn’t eaten since lunchtime.

“Yeah.” He said, standing up. “Come on.”

They headed back the way they had come, walking along a low wall where pink flowers were growing. Kian picked one and gave it to Mark

“For you.”

“Thank you.” Mark laughed, threading it through his buttonhole. They walked close, fingers brushing. Mark smiled, feeling contentment, wishing they could do this forever.

“Hey!” Kian stopped short. Mark looked back in confusion. “Isn’t that...?”

Mark looked where Kian was pointing and spotted two crouched figures, one sat against the wall of an alley and the other bent over him, dabbing at his forehead with a tissue.

“Hey!” Kian called out, pulling Mark over. “Are you okay?”

They both turned to look up at him, an expression of frightened surprise on their face. The boy leant against the wall stared at Mark for a moment before realisation dawned in his eyes.

“Hey, you’re that guy!”

“Erm... yeah.” Mark nodded, crouching down next to them. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks for that. Thought we were done for there, hey Nix?

“Yeah.” ‘Nix’ pulled the tissue back, looking at his companion’s forehead. “Shit, that’s bleeding like mad!”

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” He reached out a hand to Mark. “I’m Bryan. This is Nicky.” He motioned to the smaller boy, who nodded curtly.

Mark shook it. “I’m Mark and this is Kian.” He pointed up to Kian, who waved. “Do you need help?”

“We’ll be alright.” Nicky’s voice was defensive as he reached out to help Bryan stand. The taller blonde got to his feet and nodded, but moments later he was back on the ground again, resting his head back against the wall. Mark watched them, worried. This wasn’t looking good. “Shit, you okay?” Nicky exclaimed, crouching down again.

“Yeah. Just a bit dizzy.” Bryan smiled weakly, planting his hand on the ground and pulling himself to his knees. But that was as far as he could go and Mark and Kian watched anxiously as Nicky dropped to his own knees, brushing Bryan’s blood-matted hair back from his forehead.

“You’re not okay.”

“Where do you live?” Kian asked, crouching down next to them. Mark followed, not wanting to feel like the freakishly tall one in the group.

“Why? You want to rob us?” Nicky spat. Bryan shook his head, wincing slightly.

“Shut up, Nix.” Nicky shut up immediately, glaring at Bryan. “Sorry about him. He can be a right prick sometimes. Gets a bit weird about stuff like this.”

“That’s alright.” Mark assured him. Bryan grinned.

“We’re not too far off. Why? You got a car?”

“Er... no.” Kian shook his head. “Just thought we could help.”

“That’d be good actually. I think we might need it.” He looked up at Nicky, who looked like he was about to start protesting. “We need it, Nix. Or are you going to carry me back to your place? I could always just ring me mam?”

“No.” Nicky sighed. He stared at Mark and Kian, studying them. Mark tried to look unassuming. “Alright.” He said finally. “Are you sure? It won’t take too long, and we really do need...”

“Yeah.” Mark bent and grabbed one of Bryan’s arms, tugging him to his feet and putting it over his shoulder as soon as the bigger boy was on his feet. Bryan smiled gratefully at him and Nicky took the other arm. Kian walked along beside them as they began their slow journey down the street.

“So, are you two a couple or what?” Bryan said after a moment’s silence. Mark looked at him in surprise. Were they that obvious? Then he realised he still had a pink flower threaded through his buttonhole. “What? It’s okay. Me and Nix are. We’re not gonna gay-bash ya or nothing.”

“Erm... yeah.” Mark confessed.

“Yeah? How long?”

“Only a few weeks. But we’ve been friends for awhile so it was just kinda...”

“A natural progression.” Kian finished, looking up at Mark. Mark nodded, smiling. “I was in love with him for ages.” Kian added, squeezing Mark’s free hand. “How about you guys?”

“A year and a bit.” Bryan replied. “We go to the same school. Nix is two years older, but he’s only in the year above cos he was gonna play football. He got dropped, so he came back to redo the last year.”

“It was only because I was too short.” Nicky grumbled.

“Yeah.” Bryan nodded. “He’s still a bit sore about that.”

“Well you would be too.” Nicky protested. “I was gonna go pro and everything.”

“Yeah I know.” Bryan said. “I’m just being annoying. I’ll shut up now.”

“Thanks.” Nicky said, looking angry for a moment before bursting into laughter at the puppy-dog face Bryan gave him. “Stop it!” Bryan stuck his lower lip out, letting it tremble slightly. “Stop it or I’ll drop ya.” Nicky giggled. Bryan gave him a grin. “Love ya, ye bastard.”

“Love you too.” Bryan replied, shaking his head, then groaning, the weight suddenly becoming heavier on Mark’s shoulders. “Whoa, shouldn’t have moved my head.”

“Do you want to stop?” Nicky asked. Bryan declined. “Okay. Tell me if you want to.”

“Yeah, right.” Bryan smiled. “Where do you lads live anyway? I hope we’re not too far out of your way.”

“We’re staying at a motel, but we missed the bus.” Kian shrugged.

“Sorry.”

“Nah. It’s okay. We’ll get the next one.” Mark said, shifting Bryan’s weight slightly on his shoulder. “We’re from Sligo.”

“Country boys.” Nicky sneered. “What’d you do, take a tractor here?” Bryan rolled his eyes, but Kian laughed.

“Nah. Horse and buggy.” Nicky chuckled and Mark grinned, glad that Nicky was starting to loosen up. The boy had seemed very defensive from the first moment, and Mark was glad that he was finally smiling and laughing. But he supposed he’d just been a bit rattled with getting beaten up and his boyfriend being injured. He knew he would be.

“Why are you here, then?”

Mark didn’t know what to say to that, but Kian jumped in. “Just up for the weekend. Wanted a bit of time to ourselves without sneaking around our parents.”

“Your parents don’t know you’re together?” Nicky asked.

“Don’t know we’re gay.” Mark explained. “We’d probably be killed. How about you? Do your parents know?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “Bryan’s are cool. The age thing was a bit of a problem with them, but I’m really only eighteen months older, and Bry talked ‘em round. My folks aren’t so keen, but I’m eighteen and I’ve just got my own place, so there’s not much they can do about it.”

“It must be good having your own place.” Kian said.

Bryan gave them all a cheeky wink. “Ohhhhh yeah.”

“You horny...” Nicky laughed, slapping Bryan lightly on the chest. Bryan gave him a wide, infectious grin. Mark found himself smiling. He liked Bryan already. “Yeah, it’s good though.” Nicky continued. “Not the most glamorous of places, but it suits me. You’ll get to see it first hand in a moment.” They pulled up in front of a shabby apartment building and Nicky thrust out his free hand in a wide sweeping gesture. “Welcome to my palace. You guys coming in?”

Mark checked his watch and then glanced at Kian, who shrugged. “Might as well. We can only stay for a few minutes, though. Gotta be back for the next bus.” They half-carried Bryan, who was beginning to look a bit pale, over to the lifts. Nicky pressed the button for the top floor, the ninth, and they stepped in, Nicky shutting his eyes and grasping the hand that was thrown over his shoulder.

“Scared of lifts.” Bryan explained, squeezing back. “You should’ve taken the stairs Nicko.”

“No. I’m fine.” Nicky said, closing his eyes tighter as the lift ground to a halt and the doors slid open. He opened his eyes finally and Mark helped him carry Bryan out of the tiny metal box, Nicky sighing with relief as the doors shut behind him.

“Bloody things.” He grumbled. “Not safe, I swear.”

Bryan rolled his eyes and Mark hid a laugh. But Kian didn’t even attempt to hide the giggle that escaped and Nicky gave him a frustrated look. “What? You’re not scared of anything?” Kian shrugged an apology and Nicky sighed, sticking the key in the lock and twisting it until the door swung open. “Come on in.” The all trooped inside, leaving Kian in the living room while Mark helped Nicky carry Bryan to the bedroom. They dragged Bryan over to a worn double bed and Nicky sat down, brushing Bryan’s hair out of his eyes once he had lay down.

“You need anything, love?”

“Nah.” Bryan said, turning into the pillow. “I’ll just sleep. Be fine in the morning.”

“Alright.” Nicky bent to kiss him gently on the lips. “You give me a yell if you do need anything?”

Mark watched from the doorway as Bryan nodded and shut his eyes, allowing Nicky to tuck the blankets in around him and kiss his forehead. Mark smiled. They was really sweet.

“You two want a cuppa?” Nicky asked, standing up and following Mark back out into the tiny lounge/kitchen, where Kian was hovering uncertainly. Mark shook his head.

“Nah. Best get back to our motel. We’ve already paid for the two nights.” Nicky nodded.

“Okay.” Mark followed Kian to the door. “Wait.” Nicky stopped them and Mark turned around, Kian doing the same beside him. “Look, I just wanted to say thanks.” Nicky said, wringing his hands slightly and looking a bit nervous. “I know I was a bastard to you, and you really helped us out. I’m really grateful and I don’t know how I can repay you but...”

“That’s alright.” Kian assured him. “We were happy to help.”

“Yeah but... Jesus. Just... thank you. So much.” Nicky bit his lip, looking down at his fidgeting hands. He glanced up at them for a moment and then went to the table, rummaging around in the clutter there until he found a pen and paper. “Look, I’m gonna give you my phone number. If you ever need anything, you ring, alright?”

“It’s okay.” Mark protested.

“I want to do it anyway.” Nicky replied, pressing a square of paper into his hand. Mark looked down at it. It said _Nicky Byrne_ with a phone number underneath and then _Bryan McFadden_ written as an afterthought. “If you ever need a place to stay, or anything, you ring me. I’ll put you up.” He blushed slightly and stepped back.

“Thanks.” Mark said, tucking the paper into his back pocket alongside his wallet. “We’ll definitely... well, y’know.” Nicky nodded and shook both their hands firmly. “We better go, though. Or we’ll miss the bus again.”

“Alright.” Nicky nodded, opening the door for them. “We’ll see you round then.”

They headed back to the lifts and took the first one back to the ground floor, Mark checking his watch as he stepped out. He swore. They better hurry up, or they were going to miss the second bus. It was already quarter to. They started running, and it was two panting boys that climbed onto the bus at the last minute.


	12. Chapter 12

When Mark’s eyes flickered open on Sunday morning it was to a haze of gold in front of his eyes and he pulled back slightly, blinking, before realising where he was. He sighed with relief, ducking his head and burying his face in the back of Kian’s hair again, breathing in his scent.

He adored the way Kian smelt. Like musk, aftershave, soap and, underneath it all, the unmistakeable scent of pure Kian. He doubted he’d ever smell anything else like it in his life, and that was a good thing, because nobody else was allowed to have Kian’s scent except Kian. He remembered the aroma of the pillow after Kian had stayed the night, and how he had buried his face in it afterwards, sniffing in the fragrance, pretending Kian was there with him.

Kian shifted slightly and murmured in his sleep, rolling towards Mark so that his head was pressed into Mark’s chest. Mark pressed his face into the silky mop again, tightening his arms around Kian’s waist.

“Mmm…” Kian mumbled in his sleep, hands tightening on Mark’s waist. “I’m no… from… Mar… the fu…

Mark had to hold back a giggle as he stroked his boyfriend’s back, trying to soothe him back to sleep.

“Mark... no I...” Kian was shaking a little bit and Mark pulled back slightly as Kian whimpered in his sleep. He gently stroked Kian’s arm, trying to calm him down. “Please... plea... don’t tou... I... me... take me... me inst... leave...”

Shit. Kian was shaking harder and Mark felt his heart clench as a silent tear rolled down Kian’s cheek and plopped onto the pillow. Kian whimpered again, his fists clenching against Mark’s chest.

“Kian!” Mark called, shaking him slightly. Kian’s eyes snapped open, terror in the blue depths and before Mark had time to do anything else he had rolled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and leaving Mark staring at it in shock. Mark quickly stood up and pressed his ear against the door, listening to the harsh retching from inside.

“Ki! Are you okay?!”

His only answer was the sound of vomiting and Mark knocked again.

“Kian! Open the door!”

A moment’s silence later he heard the latch go and swung the door open to find Kian bent over the bowl, holding his hair back with one hand, a nasty sick smell filling the room. Mark felt his stomach lurch but swallowed down the bile. He needed to help Kian.

“Hey...” He knelt down behind Kian, stroking his hair back from his face and holding it in one hand while the other went around to rest on Kian’s thigh. “Are you alright?” Kian shook his head. Mark stroked his thigh gently, trying to comfort him as Kian began to sob silently. “What happened? Is it something you ate, or a virus, or what?” Again Kian shook his head and Mark leaned forward to flush the toilet, gathering Kian up into his arms as he pulled away. “What then?”

“I’m so sorry.” Kian sobbed, burying his face in Mark’s shoulder.

“It’s okay...” Mark murmured, his hand gently brushing through Kian’s hair. “It happens. It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” Kian wept. “I let them... I’m so sorry. I couldn’t...”

Realisation dawned. Frowning, he hugged Kian to him, kissing his hair as Kian cried harder, his tears soaking through Mark’s t-shirt. “Oh babe...” He whispered. “It’s not your fault. Nobody’s blaming you.” Kian shook his head and Mark continued. “You did the best you could.”

“I tried! I really did but I couldn’t stop them. I’m so sorry...”

“I know...”

“You don’t.” Kian pushed him away. “You have no idea. What, because it’s happened to you once, you think you know? You have no fucking clue.”

Mark reeled back, feeling as though he’d been slapped. He pulled his knees up to his chest as Kian buried his face in his hands and cried. He wanted to comfort him, but all he could do was sit there in shock, his mind numbed by Kian’s words.

“Ki...” He said after a moment, shifting slightly closer.

“Fuck off Mark.” Was the curt reply. Kian’s voice wasn’t raised, but Mark could sense the danger in the calm. He didn’t know what to say. Immediately he was struck by guilt. He’d been so wrapped up in his own problems he hadn’t thought about what Kian was going through.

“Ki, I’m...”

“Fuck. Off.” Kian’s voice was trembling slightly this time. Mark did as he was told, unable to hear the quiet pain in Kian’s voice any longer. He stood and headed for the door, a hot tear beginning to roll down his cheek.

“I’ll be out here.” He explained. Kian didn’t respond so he shrugged and went back into the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed and burying his face in his hands, trying to hold back tears.

He had barely begun to go over the situation in his mind when Kian emerged from the bathroom, not crying, but tears brimming in his eyes. Mark looked up, ready to offer support, but Kian didn’t even glance at him. Instead, he pulled on some clothes. Then he opened the door and walked out.

“Ki!”

No reply. Mark ran to the door, spotting Kian disappearing down the steps. He followed, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Ki, where are you going?”

“Out.” Kian replied curtly, not stopping.

“We have to get the train at two so don’t...”

“You get the fucking train back.” Kian turned around finally, anger flashing in his eyes. “You go back to fucking Sligo. They want you now, so they can have you if you want to go back. I won’t. I won’t go back and be a fucking toy. I’m sick of it. Goodbye!”

Mark stood in shock, trying to process Kian’s words. Kian was... was what? Leaving? Kian couldn’t leave! Mark was fucking in love with him! He couldn’t just... Mark remembered the anger and hurt in Kian’s eyes. Kian was the only thing he had to hang on to. Nobody else knew how he felt. Nobody else could make him feel better. Kian was his lifeline back to reality. Kian kept the voices away. Kian was his... was his...

Kian was his everything.

“Kian!” He ran down the steps and out into the street in his pyjamas, looking around for a familiar blonde head. He looked left, right, left again just to make sure. Right again. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Kian was fucking gone and... was he coming back? From the sound of things...

“Kian!” He yelled one more time, hoping by some miracle that Kian would just appear.

He didn’t.

He went back inside slowly, dropping down onto the bed. He looked up and noticed Kian’s phone on the table, and his wallet. Kian hadn’t even taken them.

He quickly pulled on the closest clothes, the ones from the night before, and shoved his wallet and phone into his pockets. He ran out into the street and looked left and right again. Right was the way to Dublin. Left was... well, fuck all really. So, thinking quickly, Mark turned right, ducking and weaving in between people as he searched for Kian.

“Shitting fuck.” He mumbled, craning his neck to see over the crowd. But there was no-one. Well, no-one of consequence. He dodged a woman with a shopping cart and stepped out into the intersection. Fuck. A fucking intersection. He’d never know which way Kian had gone. He scrubbed his hands over his face for a moment and then looked at the three different options. Kian could have gone in any direction.

Sighing, and on the verge of tears, he turned back around and headed for the motel again, running his fingers through his unbrushed hair. He didn’t care what people thought of the scruffy youth that was walking among them. He didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was Kian back.

Once back at the hotel he collapsed on the bad, wincing as his wallet was crushed under him. He pulled them out of his pocket to put them on the bed and was surprised when a piece of paper came out too. It was folded, not a receipt, and Mark opened it up curiously, looking at the words there.

_Nicky Byrne  
_ _(Bryan McFadden)_

Nicky! Nicky could help! Hadn’t he said to ring him if he needed anything? And it sure beat staying here, hoping that Kian would come back.

He quickly dialled the number, tapping his fingers impatiently on his knee as he listened to it ring. “Come on, come on. Pick up, pick up.” He murmured, standing up and beginning to pace restlessly.

“Nicky Byrne.” The voice that answered was sleepy and more than a little annoyed. Mark ignored it.

“Nicky! It’s Mark, I need...”

Nicky’s voice was confused. “Mark...?”

“From last night?”

“Oh right.” Nicky yawned. “It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning, mate. What’s so urgent?”

“I need help.” Mark could feel his voice cracking, and he swallowed the tears that lodged in his throat. “Kian, he’s... he’s gone missing and I...”

“Whoa, steady.” Nicky was awake now. Mark bit his lip, tears pricking his eyes. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“He’s... I don’t know. He said... We had an argument and he just... I don’t know where he’s gone. He said he wasn’t coming back and we have to get the train to Sligo and I don’t know what to do and I found your number so I thought...”

“Okay, okay...” Nicky interrupted. “Just calm down. Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Did he say anything?”

“No. Just that he wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t take his phone or his wallet.” Mark winced as his voice cracked again, the tears beginning to fall now.

“Okay...“ He heard a voice in the background. “Just a second.” Nicky spoke to someone for a moment and then he was back. “Sorry, Bry wanted to know what was going on. Alright... when did he go?”

“About five minutes ago.”

“Maybe he was just pissed off. Just hang around, and he might come back. Especially if he didn’t take his stuff.”

“He won’t.” Mark said firmly. “You didn’t see him.”

“Where are you?”

“Um... in a motel...” Mark gave the details slowly, so that Nicky could write them down, the blonde mmm-ing as Mark finished each sentence. When he was done, Nicky spoke again.

“We’re gonna drive over, alright? Me and Bry. We’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you.” It was a whisper. Mark hung up again, collapsing back onto the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He rolled onto his side, curling up into a ball and sobbing hysterically, unable to stop.

 

*

 

Bryan was sat next to him, rubbing Mark’s shoulder as the tears softened into more manageable hiccups. Mark looked up, noticing Nicky stood by the window, looking uneasily out into the street.

“What happened?” Bryan asked. “Tell Uncle Bryan all about it.”

Mark managed a weak laugh, even though he didn’t feel very much like laughing. Another sob escaped from his mouth along with it.

“He left...”

“I know that.” Nicky replied, smiling comfortingly at him. “Can you tell us anything else? Something that might help us find him?”

“He... he was sick...” Mark stammered, his whole body hitching as he tried to control his emotions. “And I... I went in to see... and he said I didn’t know and that... he doesn’t want to go back...”

“You’re not making any sense.” Nicky said, sitting down beside him. “What didn’t you know?”

“What... what it was like.”

“What what was like?”

“What...” Mark paused, realising what he was about to reveal. He couldn’t tell them that! He couldn’t tell two people he didn’t know. But for some reason he was drawn to tell them anyway, to help them find Kian, and maybe to get it off his chest. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t know them. They didn’t know him. It was like telling something to a diary. They wouldn’t judge, and he didn’t care if they did. They needed to find Kian, that was all that mattered.

A horrible image filled his head, the same one that had haunted his dreams the last few nights. Kian, sprawled face down on his front lawn, legs twisted unnaturally, head turned at an odd angle, eyes staring blankly. A bottle of pills in his hand…

He swallowed back a gag, making his decision. “Me and Ki, we...” It all tumbled out. Finding Kian in the bushes, Kian breaking his leg, the party and the attack. Everything. How he needed Kian so much it hurt. It was like a rush of words, pouring out of him without restraint. And when he was finished he was surprised by how much better he felt, like a huge weight had been lifted off him. He and Kian had never talked about it, not really. But he supposed that was the problem; why Kian had left in the first place.

“So... he left... and I... I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh god...” Nicky sighed sadly, pulling him out of Bryan’s embrace and into a hug. Mark went into it gratefully and when he pulled back, Bryan’s face was a twist between horror and distant anger. “We’re gonna find him.” Nicky said finally, looking out the window again. “I’ll drive around and... Bry? Can you take your mam’s car?” Bryan nodded, already standing up. “Alright, we’re gonna drive around Dublin and look for him. You stay here.”

“But I want to look for him.”

“I know.” Nicky said. “But if he comes back, its better that you’re here.”

Mark nodded, knowing he was right. Nicky smiled, stroking his hair. “We’ll find him. Got to return the favour, don’t we?” Mark gave him a small smile, unable to help it, and Nicky grinned back. “See? Everything’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“It will.” Bryan reassured him, patting his shoulder. “Everything’s all right in the end, eh Nix?”

“Yep.” Nicky nodded at him and then ruffled Mark’s hair. Mark smiled, but felt an aching emptiness in his heart. Hair-ruffling was Kian’s job.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Bryan stood up, hugging Mark one last time. “Let’s start looking! He can’t have gotten too far away.”

Mark sniffed, remembering the look in Kian’s eyes. That far away, horrible look.

Maybe Kian was already lost.

 

*

 

He felt so out of it, like he should be crying, but his body was too tired to produce any more tears. He wanted to get up and scream Kian’s name, but he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t speak. All he could do was lie there in silence, studying the cracks in the decaying motel ceiling. Kian was gone, and he might not be coming back, and that was it. There was nothing else.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because he was woken by the sound of the room’s phone ringing. He jerked awake and practically leapt for it, holding it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Mark? What are still doing there? I thought you were coming back on the six o’clock?” Mark looked out the window. It was pitch black outside. He didn’t know what to say. Shane had told him to fucking well take care of Kian, and what had he done? He’d lost him.

“Shane... I...”

“Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Shane... I lost him.”

There was silence for a moment and then Shane asked. “You... what? What do you mean you lost him?”

“He left... and I don’t know where he is.”

“What happened?”

“We had a fight and he walked out. And he’s not back and I don’t know where he is.”

“Are you looking for him?” Shane’s voice held a note of panic and Mark clutched the phone tighter, telling Shane about Nicky and Bryan. Shane sighed, his voice barely concealing his anger. “So you haven’t heard anything?”

“No. I just woke up.”

“Fuck.” Shane mumbled, his voice trembling slightly. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Mark... shit. Fuck.” Mark kept silent, not knowing if an answer was required. “Alright.” Shane said finally. “Okay so... what about getting back to Sligo?”

Fuck. Sligo. His parents. “I...”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“No.”

There was a pause and Mark waited impatiently until Shane spoke again. “Okay, I’ve got it. You and Ki are at my place tonight. I’ll ring and tell your mam.”

“Will that work?”

“Probably not.” Shane’s voice was dry. “But we don’t have much choice, do we? You have to find him.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” Shane said softly. “Because if you don’t find him I’ll fucking kill you.” Mark was shaken by the quiet menace in Shane’s voice. “It’s nothing against you personally, Mark.” Shane continued. “You’re my second best mate and I love you. But I swear, Kian is more important to me than anything in the entire world. I’d die for him.”

“So would I.” Mark protested.

“I know you would.” Shane replied. “Because you love him. And that’s why you’re going to find him.”

“Of course I’m going to fucking find him!” Mark could feel the rage rising in him now. How dare Shane speak to him like that? “Would you leave me the fuck alone? I didn’t fucking tell him to leave, did I? He left all by himself and it’s not my fault!”

There was a long pause. “I know.” Shane said finally. “But I’m not going to say sorry, because I meant every word I said. I don’t blame you for him leaving. But I will blame you if he doesn’t come back. You love him Mark, you should understand how I feel.”

“I do.” Mark replied curtly, too upset to deal with this at the moment. “Goodbye Shane.”

The phone went dead. He hung up, lying back down. But as soon as his head hit the pillow the phone started ringing again, and Mark grasped it, pressing it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Mark, it’s Nicky, we’ve been trying to ring for like ten minutes. Who were you talking to?”

Mark’s heart leapt to his throat. “Nicky? What? Have you...?”

“Mark, calm down.” Mark did as he was told, putting a hand over his frantically beating heart. “We’ve found him, alright?” Mark’s heart went from light-speed to motionless in less than a second. “But he’s in a bad way. Bryan’s coming to get you now. He’s at our place.”

“Bad way... what do you mean?” Mark said, trying to hold back tears of both relief and worry. “What happened?”

A short silence later, Nicky spoke, softly. “We’ll talk when you get here, okay?”

“But...”

“No.” Nicky interrupted. “It’s best we don’t do this over the phone. Wait until you’re here and I’ll explain. Bye Mark.”

“But...” Silence was his only answer and he hung up, reaching for a jacket and some other bits and pieces. Some of Kian’s clothes and pyjamas, his phone and wallet, anything he thought he might need. He had just finished stuffing it all in a backpack when Bryan arrived in his mam’s Ford.


	13. Chapter 13

Mark’s eyes fell on Kian’s closed eyelids for the hundredth time in the past few minutes. He was laid out on Nicky and Bryan’s bed, sleeping, or unconscious. Mark didn’t know which. Either way, he was sleeping soundly, his eyelids barely flickering as Mark stroked his tangled hair back from his forehead, willing him to wake up.

There was a soft knocking sound behind him and he turned to see Nicky hovering in the doorway.

“Hey.” Nicky whispered, coming in to sit down on a nearby chair. “Bryan’s making tea if you want some?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, looking back at Kian. He smiled sadly, glad to have him back, even considering the circumstances, and tucked a long strand of blonde behind his ear. He looked up again. “What happened?”

Nicky bit his lip. Bryan had told Mark nothing of what had happened, despite Mark’s entreaties, and from the way Nicky looked, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“When... when we found him...” Nicky sighed. “He wasn’t unconscious, he was...” Nicky paused again. “I should start at the beginning.” Mark nodded, watching as Nicky mentally worded his next sentences. “I was going around all the back streets, behind the clubs, to see if he was there. There was this group of guys, I see them a lot. Arseholes they are.” Nicky shook his head. “Anyway, there was something going on, so I thought I’d go look, you know, just to be sure. Kian was there but he was...” Nicky swallowed. “They... they were fucking him, Mark... and not just one of them. There were like... three of them, at least, and they...” Mark watched as tears filled Nicky’s blue eyes. “They were... he was conscious. So I went over, you know, to try and stop them, and they tried to grab me too, but then some bouncer heard and they nicked off. And yeah... that’s what happened. He was out by the time I got there.”

“Oh fuck.” Mark murmured, unable to say anything else as his heart clenched hard and bile rose in his throat. He forced it back down, swallowing hard, and looked back at Kian, who shifted slightly, flinching in his sleep. “Fuck.” He murmured again, reaching out to take Kian’s hand and putting it in his lap, squeezing gently. “Oh, Ki…”

Bryan appeared a few moments later with three steaming mugs held in his hands, the aroma of hot tea filling the room. Mark took his drink with his free hand and sipped it, shivering as the boiling liquid warmed his otherwise cold limbs.

“Thanks Bry.”

“Course, mate.” Bryan nodded, sitting down next to Nicky and sipping his own drink. “How’s he?”

“He’s okay.” Mark replied, brushing the last few strands of hair off Kian’s forehead. He was okay, physically. Kian was a tough little bugger. But Mark couldn’t even begin to comprehend how Kian would react when he finally woke. He squeezed Kian’s hand again.

“That’s good.” Bryan replied, taking another sip. Mark nodded, his gaze not leaving Kian. “Do you want some more sugar or milk or anything? I didn’t know what you’d like.”

Mark took a sip to check. “No, it’s fine. Thanks. Um... could I have some time...”

“Oh, of course.” Nicky stood up. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” He left with a wink, Bryan following, patting Mark on the shoulder.

“We’ll be on the other side of the door. You just yell.”

“Thanks.” Mark watched the door shut and then turning back to Kian. He watched Kian’s chest rise and fall under the torn shirt for a moment before looking up at Kian’s face again, covered as it was in a troubled sleep.

“Jesus...” He whispered to himself. “Jesus Ki... what did they do to you?” He knew Kian probably couldn’t hear him, but he hoped he could on some level. It felt more comforting to be talking to him, anyway. “You’ve wrecked your shirt, mate. Lucky you bought lots more, eh? Enough to open a shop, really.” He watched Kian’s face for any signs of response, but there were none. Mark felt tears begin to build in his eyes and he moved up alongside Kian, lying down beside him and resting his head on his chest. He felt his cheek become wet where his own tears were soaking into Kian’s shirt.

“Ki... Please wake up...” He whispered. “Please... I... I need you... I can’t...” He began to cry harder, wondering how many tears he had shed over the past few weeks. Probably more than he had in his entire life. But then he’d never felt so loved in his entire life. “Kian...”

Still there was silence, and Mark laid listening to the strong heartbeat and feeling the regular breaths that rose against his face.

“Mark?”

Mark sat up in shock as he heard Kian’s voice, looking down at the blonde, who was blinking with confusion and sleep. “Kian?”

“That’s me.” Kian smiled and then winced. “Ow. What happened?”

“You’re at Nicky’s. What do you remember?”

“Um...” A look of shock and realisation passed over Kian’s face and he gasped. “Oh shit. Mark? Why the fuck am I here? I wanted... why aren’t you home? It must be late.”

“It’s seven-thirty. Shane’s covering for us.”

“Why aren’t you back? I wanted to stay here, I didn’t... fuck Mark!”

“I wasn’t leaving without you.” Mark replied stubbornly, crossing his arms and glaring down at Kian, who glared back, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Why the fuck not, Mark? Jesus, why didn’t you just forget about me?”

“Because I fucking love you! Why the hell would I forget about you? What were you doing anyway, running out on me?” The desperation was finally giving way to the anger that had been smothered all day. He could finally let it out, now that Kian was safe. Mark knew it wasn’t the kindest of things to do, but he wanted Kian to hurt; hurt as much as he did. “It nearly fucking killed me, you bastard. I can’t believe you!”

“Well if you feel that way, you should’ve gone home. Saved yourself the bother.” Kian yelled back. “It wasn’t a fucking accident, Mark, if that’s what you thought. Did you think they just jumped me? I wanted to be there. You should have left me.”

Mark reeled back as if he had been slapped. It sure as hell felt like it, except a slap wouldn’t have hurt as much as Kian’s words had. He was speechless for a moment, staring at Kian, whose eyes were full of anger. Then he spoke again, trying to stop himself from screaming.

“Why?”

“Because it’s all I can fucking do, isn’t it?” Kian yelled back. “Fuck. That’s it. That’s all I have. I’m shite at school, my own mam doesn’t fucking love me. All I can do is fuck. So that’s what I was doing.” He heaved himself out of the bed, moving stiffly. Mark grabbed his arm, stopping him from stalking out the door.

“Look at me.” Kian yanked his arm away, but didn’t keep walking. Mark supposed he should be grateful for that. “Look at me, you arsehole. The least you can do is look at me after what you’ve done.”

“And what have I done?” Kian spun around, his mouth a twisted sneer. “Nothing worse than you have. Fucking handing your arse to anyone who wants it. That’s why they won’t want me anymore, because they’ve found a better slut. Well you can fucking have them, Mark.”

“What do you mean handing it over?” Mark growled back. “What, you actually want that? You can have it if you want, but I don’t. You can fuck, good on you, but I won’t have any part of it!” He looked away for a moment, staring at the door, where he knew Bryan and Nicky were probably ‘not listening’, then he looked back at Kian, his face burning with anger, and frustrated tears stinging at his eyes. “And what do you mean that’s all you can do? That’s just fucking stupid, Kian.”

“Yeah? What else can I do?” Kian replied. “Play a couple of chords? Wow, Mark. Skills.”

“You can do lots of stuff.” Mark replied, his voice hoarse as the anger drained from him. “You’re good at music, and drama, and sport. And you can be quite likeable when you’re not being a total prick.”

Kian snorted derisively. “Yeah, thanks Mark.”

“Kian... you just... you don’t fucking get it do you?”

“Get what?”

“That I fucking love you.” Mark replied, his voice rising again. “I wouldn’t give a fuck if you couldn’t do anything, which isn’t true at all. I love you because you’re thoughtful and funny and I like spending time with you. I couldn’t care less if you were shite in bed. And I thought you felt that way about me. But if you don’t, well I’ve just wasted my time, haven’t I?”

He pushed past, needing to get out of the room before he burst into tears again. While he’d been happy to let Kian see him cry before, now it felt like he was betraying himself. Kian wasn’t letting him in, so why should Mark pay him the same courtesy? After all, Kian didn’t love him, did he?

“I do.”

“What?” Mark froze, not turning around.

“I do. Love you.” Kian swallowed noisily. “But I don’t understand why you love me. It’s not... nobody loves me. I just keep thinking that you’ll... realise I’m crap. And walk out. I don’t have anything, Mark. All I can do is fuck and that’s... that’s it. I’ve never done anything else. That’s why you should go home. Find someone else that won’t just fuck things over for you. It’s not fair and I won’t...”

“It’s not fair?” Mark turned around to look at Kian, whose clear blue eyes were filled with tears. “What’s not fair is you pushing me away. Kian, you told me you were in love with me, and made me fall in love with you, and now you’re just telling me to go? How is that fair?”

“Because I’m not worth it. I’ll just fuck things up for you...”

“Well it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” Mark went and pulled Kian into a hug, feeling Kian struggle against him but refusing to let go. “I’ve already fallen for you, and that’s your fault. See, you can do things, can’t you? You made me love you.”

“And it made things worse! I got you hurt…” Kian struggled some more before giving in, resting his head against Mark’s shoulder. “Why is everything so shit?” He whispered, shaking in Mark’s arms.

Mark shrugged, knowing he should feel all kinds of angry, manic emotions, but only able to feel relief that Kian didn’t seem to be running away anymore. That Kian was instead clinging to him, his hands squeezing on Mark’s back while he shivered.

“I love you.” Mark whispered. “Please don’t leave me alone. I can’t do it without you.”

Kian began to cry. Mark held him close, not sure what was going on, completely unable to predict where Kian’s emotions would lead him next. He’d swung through so many of them over the last few minutes that Mark supposed this was the last one left. He hoped so.

“Come back with me.” Mark coaxed. “We can’t stay here.”

“No.” Mark stared at him, not understanding. “I can’t, Mark. I want to but... I can’t do it anymore, y’know? I went to that club for sex, but I was thinking the entire time I was doing it. ‘This is wrong.’ I just did it because... I needed something to do. There was nothing else I could do. I wasn’t good enough for you, but maybe I was good enough for them.”

“You are good enough...”

Kian shook his head. “I can’t do it again. It’s been two years, Mark. That’s enough. I don’t care what I said about them wanting you instead of me. They still want me. They’ll never let me go and I … I can’t.”

“So you’re staying here.” Mark said flatly, still trying to figure out how to talk Kian round. “How’s that going to work? You don’t have anywhere to live, you’ve spent all your money on clothes, and you’re still at school. Good plan, eejit.”

“So what else am I supposed to do?” Kian’s voice rose again, though it was roughened by a hoarse croak.

“I don’t know.” Mark admitted. “But not this. We’ll figure something out, remember you told me that?” Kian bit his lip, nodding unhappily. “So we’re going to go back tomorrow morning and we’ll figure it out. We can’t stay here.”

“Tomorrow? Can’t we stay a few more days?”

“Nope. My mam’s gonna go ballistic if she finds out what’s been happening. Shane’s covering, but I doubt it’ll last long. And we have to go to school. We’ve already taken too many days off.”

Kian scowled. “Why are you always so bloody logical?”

“Well one of us has to be.” Mark replied, smiling. He bent down, kissing Kian gently, trying to avoid aggravating the bruises and bumps. “I love you, alright? And we’re gonna be fine.”

“I wish I could believe you.” Kian sighed. “So did you pay for another night or what?”

“Oh fuck.” Mark slapped his forehead. “No. Shit. I feel asleep and then I came here so I didn’t think...” He groaned. “Fuck.”  
  
”It’s okay.” Kian replied. “We can go back and pay for another night. If there was somebody waiting, they would have kicked you out by now, wouldn’t they?” Mark nodded. Kian was right. Now who was being logical? “So we’ll go back.”

“Okay.” Kian sat down, tugging Mark with him, then pulled them both backwards to lay on the bed.

“Stay a moment.” Mark nodded, shuffling closer and putting his hand on Kian’s hip, watching carefully for any sign that he was hurting him. Kian frowned, reaching up to stroke Mark’s hair. “Do you hate me?”

“No.” Mark whispered. He didn’t think he did. As much as Kian had hurt him with what he’d done… no. He couldn’t hate Kian. Even if every time he closed his eyes he could see Kian, see those… those men all over him.

When they finally left the room, it was to find Nicky and Bryan busying themselves about the living room, doing some spontaneous tidying and not looking like they’d been listening in at all.

Nicky looked up. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Mark smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s cool. We’ll call it even.” Nicky put down the cushion he’d been unnecessarily plumping. “I’ll give you a lift if you give me a second.”

“You don’t have to...”

“You’re not taking the bus.” Bryan cut in. “It’s too late. We’ll drive you, alright? And Kian doesn’t look like he’s moving too easily.” Mark looked back, noticing the stiff way Kian was standing. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. You alright Kian?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks guys.”

“Not a problem.” Nicky found his car keys and motioned to the door. “Come on lads.”

 

*

 

They moved hard against each other, Mark’s hands roaming over Kian’s skin, trying to claim him, mark his ownership, rub their presence away. Even after the bath he’d run Kian, the smaller boy’s slippery skin reeked of other people, of people that weren’t Mark. People that had taken what Mark could never have.

“Mine.” He whispered, resisting the painful urge to sink his teeth into Kian’s neck, mark him for everyone to see. He gripped Kian’s hips, tugging him up, biting his collarbones, biting at his nipples, sinking his tongue into the well of Kian’s navel, driving it as deep as he could until Kian was crying out above him, gripping his hair.

“Mark…” Kian gasped, lifting his hips when Mark bit down one leg and up the other before taking his position above Kian, their hips pushing together hard, Kian grabbing his shoulders and making pleased, sexy noises.

“Mine.” Mark said again. “No-one else’s.”

“Yours.” Kian choked out. “Jesus, yours. No-one but you.”

Mark grunted, satisfied, feeling himself erupt hard over Kian’s skin, burning his essence into his lover, marking his property.

All too soon, Kian’s seed mixed with his, binding them together.

Mark finally relaxed, pulling Kian close, his demons banished for a few blissful moments.

“Don’t leave.” He whispered, dry lips mouthing over a slick, salty shoulder. He felt Kian shiver.

“Couldn’t.” Kian murmured, pulling Mark’s hand down. Mark felt it wrap around Kian’s cock, the flesh soft in his hand. He squeezed lightly, not letting go, resting his cheek against Kian’s heart. “Don’t let me.”

Mark nodded. “I won’t.” He looked up, their gazes locking for a fierce moment.

They were in this together, no matter what.


	14. Chapter 14

The grass was cold against Mark’s hair, sticking to it when Kian rolled him over, settling atop him. Mark grinned, not feeling the least bit trapped.

“Hello, there.”

“You’ve got me pinned.” Mark stated, watching Kian grin and feeling his heart flutter. “What you gonna do now?”

“Search your pockets for loose change?” Kian joked, lowering himself slowly so he was laying on top of Mark, their lips almost touching.

“You could kiss me.” Mark said softly, feeling his breath mingle with Kian’s. They were laid under the trees near the lake, in a secluded spot where hardly anyone went, especially in the afternoon. It was a morning spot, for fishermen and the like.

“There’s an idea.” Kian did so. Mark smiled, feeling his body react to Kian’s closeness.

“You could…” Mark grabbed Kian’s bum, lifting his hips so he could feel Kian’s erection against him. When Kian groaned, Mark slid his hands beneath Kian’s trousers, feeling the elastic from his boxers on the backs of his hands and smooth, firm flesh on his palms.

“You’re a tease.” Kian whispered.

“Am not.” Mark lifted his head, kissing Kian again. “I’m only teasing if I won’t let you have me.” He chuckled when Kian reached down, tearing his shirt open, feeling utterly happy.

Afterwards, they lay together, Kian dozing against his chest. The blonde was notorious for falling asleep after sex, as Mark had come to realise over the last few weeks sine they’d left Dublin. It had been a wonderful few weeks, almost an anticlimax after all the drama. They’d seen neither hide nor hair of McCarthy and his cronies, except for at school. It had been… perfect.

“Love you.” He murmured, his fingers running up and down Kian’s spine, drawing a light shiver from his already sleeping boyfriend. He smiled and set his watch for five o’clock, sighing and snuggling down into Kian’s arms, his eyes closing.

 

*

 

“Shit!”

“Huh...?” Mark was woken by Kian swearing, and opened his eyes, immediately noting that it was way too dark for five o’clock. “Oh... Shit!”

“You can say that again.” Kian was already on his feet, fixing up his clothes. “Didn’t you set your watch?”

“I thought I...” Mark looked down at his watch, the face blank. Shit, the batteries must have died. “It’s dead.”

“Fuck.” Kian groaned, checking his own. “It’s six thirty. My mam’s gonna go mental.”

“ _Your_ mam? I told mine I’d be home an hour ago! It’s bloody dinner time!” Mark adjusted his clothes and grabbed his bag. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!”

Kian nodded and they set off down the road at a run, Mark just slightly in front. They reached the fork where their paths split, and Mark quickly pulled Kian into a hug. “I’ll see you.”

“Yeah.” Kian patted his back and then let go, dashing away. Mark was about to head off in the other direction, when he noticed Kian’s wallet on the ground. Quickly he picked it up and ran down the way Kian had come, spotting the other boy in the distance

“Ki... mph!” A hand came down over his mouth and he struggled for a second, his eyes wide as he saw Kian grabbed by a dark figure and tugged in between two houses. Mark bit down on the hand over his mouth, which was pulled away with a yelp of pain.

He screamed, kicking out and pulling away. But he was grabbed again and yanked behind a tree as the door to a nearby house was opened and light flooded the street.

“Is someone there?”

Mark was about to struggle again, but he felt something cold and hard press against his throat and he stiffened as he felt the sharpness of the blade.

“Make a sound and I’ll kill you.” Hot breath bathed his cheek and he nodded, not daring to breathe. The woman went back inside and the knife was removed, a hand coming up to press into his throat. There were two of them; Greene had the knife and was behind him, McCarthy’s hand was over his throat.

“Hello, Feehily.” McCarthy smirked, pressing closer. “Been a while, hasn’t it?” Mark was about to reply, but felt the knife press into his stomach, so he stayed silent. “Too long.” McCarthy continued. “We were starting to miss you.”

“Please...” Mark couldn’t keep silent any more. “Please...” He whispered. “Just let me go.”

“Why on earth would we want to do that?” McCarthy replied, leaning in close, his breath coating Mark’s face. An involuntary shudder swept the length of Mark’s body and he closed his eyes tight, turning away from the boy, the knife scratching him as he shifted. “Look at me, you little slut.” After a moment’s hesitation, Mark did, looking up into dark grey eyes that shimmered with cruelty. McCarthy smirked. “Come on.”

Mark was walked, unresisting because of the knife in his side, around the corner and into a tiny alleyway beside a row of closed shops, far from any homes. Kian was already there, on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He looked up as Mark arrived, his eyes full of sorrow and remorse, but looked back down as a knife was pressed to the back of his neck. A sharp kitchen knife. The kind Mark’s mother used to chop vegetables.

“Hello Egan.” McCarthy smirked, reaching over to run his hand up the side of Kian’s face, Kian not moving. “Nice to see you again. How are ye?”

“Fuck off.” Kian growled, spitting on McCarthy’s shoes. McCarthy scowled, bending down and lifting Kian’s head up until they were face to face.

“You want to clean my shoes, Egan? Well, you’ll have to do a better job than that.” He stood up and motioned to Parkes, who pressed Kian’s head down until his mouth was almost touching McCarthy’s shoe. “Go on. Clean it up.” Kian didn’t move, but yelped as the knife was pressed to the back of his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. As Mark watched, Kian bent his head and licked the top of McCarthy’s shoe, shuddering as he did.

“That’s better.” McCarthy kicked Kian hard in the shoulder with the damp shoe and then turned back to Mark, motioning for him to be knelt on the ground. Mark yelped as his head was pulled back, exposing his throat, Greene’s fingers gripping his hair enough to hurt. “Now…” McCarthy knelt down, and Mark flinched as the boy’s arm came around his neck, pulling him into something resembling a hug. “I’ve got a question for you, Egan. How’s your boy in bed? Any good?”

A look of pure hatred crossed Kian’s face. “You bastard.”

“That’s not very nice, Egan. I only asked a question.” Mark tried to pull away as a wet tongue was dragged up the side of his face, but he was held firm. He felt the bile rise in his throat and swallowed hard. “You still tight, Feehily?”

Mark shut his eyes, feeling nauseous. His hands were dragged around to the front and secured with a piece of rope, McCarthy yanking the knot tight, the grain rubbing his wrists raw. A hand on his neck pushed him onto his hands and knees, and he heard a belt buckle being undone somewhere to his left.

“You’ve been really bad lately, Egan; holding out on us.” McCarthy said, his rough hands scrabbling at Mark’s shorts and tugging them down, Mark eye’s snapping open in shock as the cool night air touched his skin. “So you’re gonna have to pay for that. What do you think if we take it out of your boyfriend’s arse?”

“No...!”

Mark gasped as Kian was slapped hard across the face. “You insolent little fag.” McCarthy spat. “Well just have to take it out of both of your arses now. But first, you can watch Feehily’s turn.”

“Mark, I...” He was slapped again, and Mark shut his eyes, hearing Kian’s sob.

“Shut up.” He heard Parkes growl, and gasped as he felt a finger trace down his crack and start to edge in. It was dry, and he heard himself cry out at the pain, the raw friction agonising as he tensed up in terror. A piece of material was wrapped around his mouth and he bit down hard on it as it was fastened at his neck.

“Mark! Please don’t...” He heard the hollow slap of a palm against skin and Kian fell silent, his breathing harsh. He opened his eyes to see Kian slumped on the ground, his bound hands behind his back as Parkes straddled his legs, holding his head up so he could watch Mark. Mark looked back, tears clouding his vision, and Kian held his gaze, sorrow written clear. “Mark... so sorry...”

Mark nodded, hissing around his gag as McCarthy pushed inside him, the bigger boy moaning at the tightness. It was pain unlike anything he’d felt before, the memory of the last incident having been dulled by time. His body was too distressed to even make tears anymore and he held Kian’s gaze, trying to focus on something other than stretching and tearing flesh, and McCarthy’s gasps against the back of his neck.

Kian stopped struggling and went limp as Mark’s torn flesh was flooded with hot liquid, the burning pain making him scream into the gag. He shut his eyes finally and collapsed onto the ground, his hands caught beneath him. McCarthy drew out fast, dragging over injured flesh, and Mark opened his eyes to see the tears on Kian’s cheeks as Peter Ryan yanked him to his knees and pushed in, his face twisting in cruel pleasure. Kian’s head was on the ground, his hands unable to hold him up when behind his back.

“Still good, Pete?” McCarthy grinned, leaning back against the wall. Pete nodded and came, shutting his eyes on a harsh breath, drawing out and letting Kian drop to the ground.

Kian’s eyes were shut and his breathing harsh, and Mark watched through half closed eyes as Ryan tucked himself away, leaning against the wall next to McCarthy.

“So,” McCarthy smirked. “Who wants Feehily next?”

 

*

 

It was light when Mark next opened his eyes, and he looked up at the ceiling. His ceiling. How had he gotten here? He went to sit up, but lay back down, his back hurting too much. The last thing he remembered was Parkes thrusting into him, and then the pain. Oh god, the pain. He must have passed out, he thought. How had he got home? Kian must have...

Kian! Shit! Where was Kian!?

Carefully he sat up again, wincing against the pain, and practically rolled onto the floor. He stumbled to the door and opened it, blinking as his dad appeared from the bathroom.

“Mark! What are you doing up?” His dad came towards him and practically pushed him into the room. Mark went, unresisting in his confusion. “Get back into bed.”

“But I...”

His dad tucked him in, pulling the blankets up to his neck. “You shouldn’t be up, lad.” What was his dad talking about? Did he know...? “Do you want some water?”

Mark swallowed experimentally. It felt like he’d eaten a bowl of razor blades. He nodded and his dad disappeared, reappearing a minute later with a glass of water. He helped Mark to sip it, but Mark took the glass from him. He wasn’t a baby.

“Where’s Kian?” He said finally, putting the glass down.

“Kian...” His dad looked away. “I don’t know. He showed up with you last night, but then just left. What happened? He said you were hurt, but I don’t...”

Mark sighed with relief, leaning back into the pillow. Kian was okay. Kian had... what? Carried him home? Jesus. He looked up at his dad, sitting on the corner of his bed with a look of deep concern on his face, worry lines crossing his forehead. Mark shook his head, trying to think of how to answer.

“Just a fight. It was just a stupid fight.”

“Yeah?” His dad looked at him. “Well I don’t believe that for one second. You were unconscious, and there’s barely a mark on you, except for a couple of bruises.” Mark shrugged.

“Maybe it’s hidden under my hair? I remember they got me pretty hard in the back of the head.”

“You were shouting in your sleep.”

“It was probably just a nightmare.” His dad crossed his arms, looking sternly down at him. Mark stared back, trying not to flinch away.

“I’ve had nightmares, Mark. I’ve never started yelling. Same with your brothers, and your mother. And every other person I’ve ever met. Not unless they’ve been through something pretty horrible.” Mark finally looked away, down at his hands. “What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“Mark...” His dad rested his forehead in his hands, looking down at his lap. “Look, I’m worried, alright? I want to know what happened. I don’t care what it was, I won’t be angry. I just... I need to know. If... you’re in trouble, I can try to help. I need to help.”

“You can’t.” Mark croaked, rolling onto his side. “Just leave it.”

“Mark...” Mark shook his head and his dad sighed, defeated. “Okay.” He said, looking up. “I don’t want to do this but... I have to stop you seeing Kian.”

“What!?” Mark sat up in bed, staring in shock at his father, who looked back sadly. “Dad... you can’t!”

“I have to.” His dad said, standing up. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s something to do with Kian, isn’t it?” Mark looked back silently for a moment, not moving. It did have something to do with Kian, that was true, but it wasn’t...

“It’s not his fault!” Mark cried, moving onto his knees. “Please dad, I need him! You can’t do this!”

“I have to.” His dad said again. “I won’t have you getting hurt like that again.” Mark went to protest, but his father shook his head. “No. It’s for your own good. You’ve become a different person since you and he became friends. You don’t come home some nights, you spend all your savings running off to Dublin for the weekend… I don’t know what’s got into you. You don’t speak to me or your mother…” He paused, shaking his head. “I want you straight home after school and you’re not to talk to him on the phone. And on the weekends, I want to know who you’re with at all times.”

“Dad!” Mark couldn’t believe it. “Dad, please!”

“No. I’m sorry Mark.” His dad stood again, heading for the door. “I’ll let your mother know you’re awake, she’s been very worried about you.”

“Dad!” Mark’s cries came on deaf ears as the door was shut, leaving him alone in his room. Mark looked around for a second before flopping back to the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He reached for his phone, hoping to ring Kian and explain, see if he was okay, but it wasn’t there. They’d taken it out. He turned and sobbed into his pillow, feeling more alone than he had in his entire life.


	15. Chapter 15

“Sarah... I... I think we should break up.” He’d prepared himself for tears, disbelief, all sorts of things. He wasn’t disappointed.

“What? Why?”

“I just... I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.” Well, he wasn’t with her, but he was ready for the secret one he was still having with Kian, despite his dad’s warnings. It wasn’t so hard, seeing as they’d managed to keep it a secret for months already. It was just a bit harder to find... personal time. Not that there was any of that recently. Mark couldn’t do it, not after what happened. Any time anything remotely sexual happened, he tensed up entirely. Kian, being Kian, had been totally okay with it, which Mark was grateful for. But what he wouldn’t give for another trip to Dublin, despite the horrors of the last one. He felt trapped, suffocated, with no-one to turn to. He couldn’t turn to his parents – their recent behaviour had reaffirmed the idea that they would never accept him and Kian.

“I’m sorry.” He said, trying to look apologetic.

“So what’s the last five months been?” She exclaimed, exasperation making her voice crack. He shrugged.

“I’m sorry.”

“I...” There was the first tear. He could see it, glistening in the corner of her eye. She blinked furiously and it disappeared as she clenched her hands into fists. “Fuck you, Mark!” She shouted, shoving him hard and stalking away down the hall towards the ladies room, leaving Mark standing in a hallway filled with whispers and stares. He ignored them, setting off down the hall and out into the grounds, towards his car. He’d finally saved up enough money to buy one. It was crap, granted, but had cost only a month’s wages at the Burger King. He pushed the key into the ignition, turning it a few times until the engine warmed up. The car was a blessing, really. Not only was it good for transportation, it also meant that neither of them had to walk home any more. He smiled as Kian slid into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt.

“Hey.” Mark greeted him. Kian nodded.

“Hi.” Kian replied, reaching over to squeeze Mark’s hand. Mark squeezed back and pulled out into the street, heading for Kian’s place.

“Good day?”

“Yes, dear.” Kian joked, laughing.

“Eejit.”

“Yep.” Kian squeezed his shoulder. “One day we’ll have that, you know?” He said softly. “You and me. Our own place. Our own jobs.” He smirked. “Our own bed?”

Mark snorted. “Tart.” He paused. “How’d I do?”

“I was impressed.” Kian replied. “Could see the action from the end of the hall.”

“You don’t think she suspected...”

“Hell no.” Kian shook his head. “’I’m just not ready for a relationship’? Very nice.”

“I thought so.” Mark turned the corner, the blue rust-bucket screeching slightly, both boys wincing. “Ugh. Piece of shit.”

“Oh, it has its uses.” Kian leant over to peck Mark’s cheek, making Mark laugh at the light touch against his skin. Kian pulled back, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Mark replied, squeezing Kian’s thigh. Kian leant back into his seat, grinning.

“Almost your birthday.” Kian said.

“I know.” Mark smiled sadly. He would be seventeen in a few weeks, but he couldn’t feel that excited about it, knowing he couldn’t spend it with the person he loved. “What have you bought me?”

“Oh, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Kian’s answer was vague, affected with mystery, and Mark laughed.

“Ooh, can I guess?”

“Yep, but you won’t get it.”

“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“Oh, you know you can have the animal whenever you want.” Kian leered at him, and Mark attempted a laugh. As much as he wanted to, he was still having trouble. He was attracted to Kian, there were no problems there, but every time he was touched, he just thought of...

“Mark... oh god, I’m so sorry.” Kian said, squeezing his shoulder. “Shit. You know I didn’t mean...”

“I know.” Mark sniffed back all his guilt and want, nodding. “I know. Sorry Ki.”

“Not your fault.” Kian frowned. “Mark, it’s not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you. It’s not a problem, you know? I’m happy just to have you. With or without sex.”

“I know.” Mark nodded. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” Kian squeezed again, but didn’t let go, and Mark let the hand stay there until he reached Kian’s house, the comforting weight warming him up.

“I’ll see you later, babe.” Kian reached over to peck his lips, and Mark returned it, smiling.

“See you.”

Kian shut the door and Mark watched as he made his way up the path, hips swinging slightly with the movement of his body. Mark licked his lips, starting as he realise Kian was looking back, a long-suffering smirk spread across his face. Mark blushed, looking back at the steering wheel as Kian wandered back over to the car and stuck his head in through the window.

“Like what ya see, do ya?” Kian grinned, leaning on the door. Mark shrugged.

“Oh, it’s alright.”

Kian looked affronted. “Alright?” He opened the door and slid in next to Mark, tugging him into a gentle kiss. “Well in that case, you’re pretty alright yourself.” Mark tugged him closer, kissing him hard, loving the feel of Kian’s tongue in his mouth. Kian moaned slightly and tangled his fingers in Mark’s hair, the other hand moving to rest on Mark’s thigh, sliding upwards.

“No!” Mark pulled back as he felt himself begin to choke, bending his knee up so it was between him and Kian.

“Oh shit, sorry Mark. I thought...”

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you?” Mark spat. He didn’t mean to be so short with Kian, but his heart was still pounding with shock, the feeling of rough fingers still all over his body.

“Jesus, you don’t have to be such a dick about it.” Kian scowled. “Look, I said I was sorry, didn’t I? What’s your problem?”

“What, you don’t fucking know?” Mark shouted. Kian’s mouth dropped open with shock, but he recovered moments later, his face twisting into an angry frown.

“Mark... shit. It’s been a month, Okay? A month! Get the fuck over it!”

“Get out.” Mark growled, seething with rage. Kian didn’t move, just fixed him with a contemptuous glare, so Mark reached over and opened the door. “Get out.”

“Mark...”

“Get the fuck out!” Mark yelled.

“Fine!” Kian shouted back, scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him. “Fuck off, Mark.”

Mark sat staring out at the road, his fingers clenched tight around the steering wheel as Kian stomped back into the house. He could feel himself trembling with anger and shock as the front door slammed behind Kian, his stomach tight and his head dizzy. He went to put the key in the ignition, but suddenly froze, feeling ill, the feel of rough hands sliding all over his body, along his belt, over his groin and against his arse. Mark gasped, leaning his head against the steering wheel, waiting for it to pass like it normally did. But this time it seemed to go on, his hands clenching as pain ripped through his spine, through his head, his stomach. He felt violated, assaulted, and bile rose in his throat as he remembered the hands all over him, fingers, Kian... Kian not doing anything, being fucked. His harsh gasps, and the gasps of McCarthy against his neck.

He practically crawled out of the car as the vomit rose and he gagged, heaving hard into the gutter, the smell of sick reaching his nostrils and swirling around his skull, intensifying the dizziness. He gagged again, vomiting twice more, the grass cold beneath his fingers, the hands still running over his skin, the pain flashing through his nerves, still gagging on acid once he was empty.

He closed his eyes, sitting back on the grass, his head between his knees as he tried to get control of himself. A few deep, harsh breaths later, he was feeling no better, and sat still, waiting for it to pass. The rancid smell of sick reached him from where he was sat and he choked as it filled his mouth and nose, twisting around his throat.

“Mark...” Kian was behind him, and Mark was grateful for a second that Kian had even bothered to come out, considering how he had been treated, but as Kian’s hands touched his shoulders he shrank away, feeling only their touch, the pain.

“Hurts.” Mark mumbled, more to himself than anyone. He gagged again, bringing up only acid. He just registered Kian coming around to sit beside him, not touching him, his knees bent up as he watched Mark vomit... watched them do that to him... just watched and didn’t...

A sob tore at his throat and he rested his head on his arms, folded over his bent up knees as he began to cry, tears streaming down his cheeks. Kian still sat beside him, watching intently, but not touching. Not helping.

“Babe...” Kian’s hand touched his shoulder and Mark flinched away for a second before relaxing into the touch. He felt Kian’s arm come around his shoulder, holding him loosely. “Hey... it’s all over... they’re not here... there’s no-one...” Mark nodded, feeling the touches disappear, the pain begin to throb away. Kian was here. There was no-one. “I’m so sorry, Mark.”

“It hurts...”

“I know, love.” Kian whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“But you didn’t... I... I though you were... they were doing it and... and you didn’t... nothing... you just... let... let them and I... ”

“I couldn’t have done anything, love.” Kian soothed, his voice shaking slightly, and Mark looked up to see tears in his eyes. “I really tried. I tried... so hard. But... but they had a knife and I couldn’t... they would have killed you.”

“I’d rather be dead.” Mark whispered, surprised at the truth in his own words. “I... you said it was gonna be okay...”

“I know.” Kian choked. “I know I... I thought we could... but... Fuck, I’m so sorry, Mark.”

“Yeah.”

“Come inside. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Mark nodded, letting himself be pulled to his feet and taken inside. He was surprised to realise that he’d never actually been inside Kian’s house before, even with all the time they’d been together. Taking into account the state and age of Kian’s clothes, and the way his mother acted, Mark had expected squalor, not very much at all. Maybe all the kids squashed into one bedroom together.

This wasn’t like he expected. It was neatly kept, various expensive looking knickknacks spread about the room and over a luxurious fireplace. Large comfortable chairs, a polished dining table and top-of-the-line appliances filling the kitchen. He was taken upstairs into a clean, neat hallway dotted with framed pictures of friends and relatives Mark didn’t know, as well as lots of Patricia and Kevin. But even with all the photos, Mark was surprised to note that there was none of Kian, nor Marielle and Colm. He recognised Tom in one photo and Gavin in another, but there was no sign of either of Kian’s older sisters. There was not much time to dwell on this, though, as he was led into a large bathroom, the tiles glistening immaculately, the perfect porcelain sink and bath glinting as Kian switched the lights on.

“Alright.” Kian sat him down on the edge of the bath and reached for Mark’s shirt, but just as quickly pulled away. “Do you want to do it yourself?”

Mark nodded, pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as he realised how messed up it was, the vomit sticking it to his skin. He hadn’t realised. Kian took the shirt, screwing up his face in disgust as much as he tried to hide it. It was thrown into the sink and Kian turned on the tap.

“I’ll let you have a bath or shower or whatever.” Kian said, heading for the door. “All the stuff’s in the shower rack.” He began to shut the door behind him, and Mark began to panic. Kian couldn’t leave him alone! It was... he felt fingers skate over his skin and flinched.

“Kian?”

“Yeah?” Kian stuck his head back through the door and Mark smiled weakly.

“Er... stay? Please? I just... I’m not...”

“Mark...” Kian sighed, coming back in and sitting down. “Mark, this is starting to get silly, alright?” Mark went to protest, and Kian shook his head. “It is. You have to know what you want because I’m confused. I know you are too, but I’m really confused, cos I don’t know what’s going on in your head. You push me away, and then you don’t want me to leave and I... I don’t even know if you’re still angry at me. You have to tell me.”

Mark nodded. He knew Kian was right, of course he was. How could Kian possibly be expected to cope with all this shit he was going through? He sighed, resting his face in his hands. He needed to make a decision. Did he want Kian? Really?

Yes.

“I’m sorry.”

“What have I said about apologising?” Kian said sternly.

Mark shrugged, ignoring him. “I... I don’t know what I want. I want... I want you but I don’t... it’s not fair on you but every time... I can feel it. I can. All over me, and then pain and I don’t...” He sighed. “Ki, I love you. Please don’t break up with me.”

Kian laughed softly, and Mark felt an arm come around his shoulders. “You were the one that went off at me, remember.” Mark nodded. Of course he had. Idiot. “I don’t want to break up with you.” Kian said finally. “But sometimes you’re not giving me much choice. I’m sick of having half a relationship every time you decide to disappear into that shell of yours.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, you idiot.” Kian laughed, slapping him lightly. “Come on. What do you want? Right now?”

“I... want to get clean.” Mark said, looking down at himself in disgust. “And I want you to stay.” He looked up. “What do you want?”

“I want to stay while you clean yourself up.” Kian smiled. “Come on.” He took Mark’s hands, standing him up and letting him take his trousers off. Mark was glad Kian didn’t try to do it for him, he couldn’t have coped. He handed them to Kian, who dumped them in the sink with the shirt, turning the tap off as it looked about ready to overflow. Mark quickly took his boxers off and handed them to Kian, climbing in the shower. He didn’t care if Kian saw him naked, Kian had seen it a million times before. Just as long as he didn’t touch.

He turned the taps until it was nice and warm, and sighed as the heat washed over his body, sweeping the sticky sick away and making a nice contrast to the coolness of the bathroom. He stuck his head out, seeing Kian sit down on the lid of the toilet, and smiled.

“Hi.” Kian gave him a small wave, and Mark waved back.

“Hi.” Kian laughed and shook his head, Mark just saw it before he grinned and pulled back under the hot water. He heard Kian shift around.

“What you doing?”

“Just rinsing your stuff.” Kian called back. “I’ll put it in the wash when you get out. I think I’ve still got some of your clothes that you can wear home.”

“Really? From when?” Mark had never been over. When had he left his clothes?

“From when we had that water fight in your backyard. You remember? I had to wear your stuff home?”

“Oh, yeah.” Mark remembered that day, about a week after they’d returned from Dublin. Kian’s stuff had been drenched and muddy, so he’d put it in the wash, leaving Kian sitting in nothing. Nobody had been home, so they hadn’t minded Kian wandering around naked. And Mark certainly hadn’t minded when they’d pinned each other against the washing machine. It had been very nice. Lots of vibrations. He shuddered as he thought about it. “Is it my red shirt? Cos I haven’t seen that in ages.”

“Yeah it is, and black jeans. Still smell like you.” Mark could almost hear Kian blush.

“Really? Is there something I should know?”

“Apart from the fact that you smell really good?” Kian laughed. “Too bad your insides don’t smell as good. These clothes reek. Yuck.”

“Sorry.” Mark rinsed his hair under the shower, still not feeling remotely clean. And then before Kian could berate him for apologising: “That was good, wasn’t it? Against the washer?”

“Ohhhh yeah.” Kian laughed. “Especially when the spin cycle started.” Mark giggled. He remembered that. Kian had nearly fallen off. “That one fuelled me well into next week.”

“Oh, me too.” Mark replied, soaping himself up for the third time, the dirt still refusing to come off. He could still feel them all over, grabbing at him. He scrubbed at his stomach, trying to push them away, but they pressed tighter, fingers pressing into his belly, holding him... He swallowed the fear down, focusing on Kian’s voice, he scratched himself with his fingernails, so hard he was almost bleeding, but still they refused to come off. “So, I was talking to Nicky yesterday.”

“Yeah? How’s he?” They had kept in touch, much to Mark’s surprise, and he found he did actually have a lot in common with the two older boys. Bryan had been the one that had started it originally, ringing Kian up one Sunday afternoon to see how he was after the incident in Dublin, and it had just sort of gone from there.

“Good. He and Bry are thinking of going on holidays soon. Might come to Sligo.”

“That sounds good. Be nice to see them.”

“Yeah.” Mark reached behind him to turn the hot water up, hoping the scalding water would wash them away. He bit his lip at the heat, but then his body adjusted, and he began to scrub harder, at his hair, back, stomach, even along his fingernails, sure there were bits of them trapped there. “It’ll be good.”

“Yeah.” Mark sat down to scrub his feet, the water thundering down over his head and soaking his hair flat to his forehead, obscuring his vision. He stood back up once it was done, not feeling the least bit cleaner. “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“Your parents! You were supposed to be home, like, forty five minutes ago!”

“Oh, fuck!” Mark looked down at his waterproof watch, wincing as he read the time. “They’re gonna go mental!” He quickly took off the watch so he could wash underneath, running the cloth hard over his wrist. “What do I do?”

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...” Kian murmured. “Let me think. Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Mark repeated, scrubbing at his face, feeling the slight tinge of blood where he must have caught his lip. He licked it away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you done?” Kian asked after a moment. “You’ve been in there an awfully long time.”

Mark looked down at himself. No matter how hard he tried, it just wasn’t coming off. They weren’t coming off. He shook his head, turning the water off.

“Yeah. Just can’t get clean.”

He pulled the shower curtain aside to see Kian getting a towel off the rack and stepped out into it, starting as he heard Kian’s gasp of horror.

“Mark... shit. You’re bleeding, are you...?” The towel was pulled away, and Mark reached for it, feeling chilled now that he was away from the hot water. “Jesus, these look like...” Kian sat him down, running his hand over Mark’s face. “These are burns... they’re... how hot did you have the water?”

Mark looked down at himself. Kian was right. He was bleeding all over the place, red raw grazes all over, his skin almost scarlet with the heat of the water.

“It... couldn’t get clean...” He mumbled, hesitantly touching the raw skin on his wrist. “I... they were all over and...” He felt prickles up his arm and began to scratch harder at his wrist, feeling them grab him there. His hand was pulled immediately away by Kian, even though he struggled. “No! I... need to... to get them off... please...”

“Mark...”

“No... all over me... Ki... please get them off... off me... they’re... “

“Stop it.” Kian held his hands tight. “Stop it, Mark. There’s nothing there. Stop it now. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Ki... please...”

“No.” Kian put the plug into the bath and turned on the cold tap, then reached over and grabbed a tissue from a box on the counter, holding Mark’s hands in one of his. Gently he dabbed at Mark’s lip. “You’re bleeding.” He explained, and when he pulled back, Mark could see the blood on the tissue. He licked at his lip, the copper tang exploding over his tastebuds. Kian dabbed gently at his neck, reaching for another tissue. “Shit, Mark. This is...” He trailed off, letting go of Mark’s hands and giving him a stern look as he went to scratch. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Mark nodded. It did. It hurt so much. But they were still crawling all over him, like insects or rats, lapping at his face, claws pricking over his skin. They were hurting him too, and that was the worse pain.

“I’m not surprised.” Mark hissed as the tissue caught in a small patch of blood on his arm, the area around it burnt to rawness. Kian looked up apologetically and then threw the tissue away. “Come on, love. We need to get you in the bath.”

He let Kian help him into the bath, yelping as the cold water touched his burning, ragged skin. He nearly stumbled with the pain, but Kian caught him gently, helping him to sit down. He bit his lip hard as the shockingly icy water ran over his body.

“Lay back.” Kian instructed, holding the back of Mark’s head gently as he slid down into the water, the heat of the burns stabbing along his nerves, even the freezing water not numbing them.

“Ow...”

“I know.” Kian said, stroking Mark’s hair. A gentle thumb ran across his lower lip, and Mark realised suddenly that blood was seeping out from where his teeth were sunk into his lower lip. “Stop that.”

Mark did, tasting the blood that ran into his mouth. “Sorry.”

Kian sighed. “What are we going to do with you?”

Mark shook his head, honestly not knowing. He’d gone from being a normal teenager to a weak, paranoid child, all in the space of a few months. He couldn’t understand it. Everywhere he went, they were all over him, fingers raking along his skin. Making him bleed, and hurt, and burn. He winced as said burns were crushed against the white porcelain beneath, moaning softly in pain and laying back in the bath, the cold lip of the bath against the back of his neck the only isolated sensation. Everything else was a huge blanket of pain and heat and cold, woven around him.

Kian dipped the corner of a scrunched-up tissue into the water surrounding Mark and used it to dab his lower lip. Mark saw the blood as it was pulled away and looked down to watch a few swirls of red rise from the abraded flesh on his knee, a long streak of burnt pink running alongside it.

“Does it feel better?”

Mark shook his head, not having the strength to lie. He felt so tired all of a sudden. All of these things had been happening, and he just couldn’t fight it any more. He had tried. So hard. He couldn’t try any more

“Still hurts.” He let out a single dry sob and turned away. Ideally, he would’ve liked to bury his face in his arms, but he didn’t dare lift them above the water.

“Okay.” Kian soothed, his hand gently stroking along Mark’s shoulder. Mark sobbed again, the touch generating a stabbing ache throughout his skin. He slid down, covering the shoulder with water until it numbed a little.


	16. Chapter 16

“Lay down for me, love.” Kian coaxed, helping Mark sit down on the mattress. Mark nodded, sliding into Kian’s bed and allowing the blankets to be pulled up around him. After he’d been pulled out of the bath, Kian had bandaged some of the more serious cuts, and there was a bag of ice handy in case the burns started to become aggravated again. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark whispered, rolling carefully onto his side. Kian slid in beside him, holding him close, but at the same time managing to not touch any of Mark’s injuries.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Kian nodded and kissed his forehead. “Okay. But you tell me if...”

“Yeah.”

They lay still like that for a while, Mark leant into Kian’s embrace, his head buried in the blonde’s neck. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable of things, the mattress far too old for sleeping on. Small springs dug into his side as he moved, and he tried to lie still, focusing on Kian’s warmth and comfort.

Kian sighed softly, and Mark snuggled closer, looking up at his boyfriend. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kian smiled sadly. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Kian shook his head. “Just... your parents are probably worried, aren’t they? You were supposed to be home hours ago. What are you gonna tell them? And what about you being hurt and...?” He shrugged. “We’re fucked.”

Mark nodded. Kian was right. He was going to have to explain his injuries somehow, and knew that it’d all be put down to Kian, same as last time. Then his dad would know they were still friends, and would split them up properly this time. He didn’t doubt it could happen. Parents always found a way, didn’t they?

“I can’t go home.” He sobbed. “They’ll stop me seeing you. I can’t... I need you and...”

Kian gently soothed him, but it hardly made a difference. Mark couldn’t remember feeling more awful in his whole life, a deep, aching sorrow that swirled in his belly and out through his whole body, tightening around his throat and making tears shine in his vision.

“Marky…” Kian whispered, stroking Mark’s hair back from his forehead. “I don’t think I keep doing this.”

“What?” Mark’s stomach tightened, turning in on itself. Was Kian saying…? He looked up in shock, meeting sad blue eyes which widened under his gaze.

“Oh shit, no, I didn’t mean that!” Kian gasped, grabbing Mark and hugging him tight. Mark felt his stomach settle a little, though his heart was still beating faster than he had ever thought possible. “Jesus, no!” Kian whispered against his hair. “I’d never leave you. Shit, sorry.” He kissed Mark’s forehead. “Love you.”

“Jesus…” Mark let out a hysterical little laugh. “Don’t do that to me! Jesus…” He buried his face in Kian’s chest, trying to calm his racing heart. “What did you mean then?” He asked, nuzzling Kian’s chest, trying to reclaim him after that little shock.

“I just meant…” Kian sighed, kissing Mark’s hair, his arms holding him tighter, as though he was afraid of letting go. “I can’t keep doing this, watch you hurt like this. You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating properly…” Mark looked up in surprise, but Kian rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I’m that stupid? I know every inch of you, babe, and I know when there are less inches than before.” Mark looked away. He hadn’t been doing it consciously, he just hadn’t had an appetite lately.

“I didn’t mean to.” He whispered. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Kian murmured. “That’s what I mean. It’s mine. I’ve gotten you hurt, I’ve caused… well, what happened today. If it wasn’t for me…”

“It’s not your fault!” Mark protested. “You were trying to protect me…”

“I know. But… but this isn’t protecting you! This is ruining your life. I don’t want you to look back and have me be the reason you were always looking over your shoulder. I just…” Kian sighed. “I didn’t tell people, okay? That was my decision. But it’s not… about me anymore. It’s about what’s best for you.”

“And what is best for me?” Mark said, hearing his voice crack and wishing it hadn’t. He was supposed to be strong, for Kian. If he had just been strong, Kian wouldn’t be saying all this.

“I think we need to get some help.” Kian said quietly. “Real help, not like Shane. Not like each other. We’re going around in circles.” He pulled Mark closer. “Like… like your parents, maybe?”

“We can’t tell my parents!” Mark gasped, horrified. He pushed away from Kian, meeting his gaze. “What are you, crazy? They’ll split us up… they’ll never let us be together! They’ll blame you and…”

“Maybe I deserve to be blamed.” Kian whispered. “And maybe… maybe if you’re safe… maybe I don’t mind if we’re apart.” This time, Kian’s voice cracked. “I just want you to be okay.”

“You’re talking crap.” Mark snapped. “Stop talking crap.”

Kian shook his head, letting go and sitting up. Mark felt abruptly cold.

“We can’t keep doing this, Marky. We just… can’t. Okay? If they can’t help us, then maybe we have to run but I… I’ve ruined everything, don’t you get that? Your parents won’t even let you see me now, and there’s a reason for that. It’s because I got you hurt and in trouble. I’ve fucked up your relationship with them already. I didn’t want you lying to them but… I was too much of a coward to get you to tell them. When you should have. I never told anyone cos I had no-one to tell. You…”

“You’re all I need.” Mark whispered hoarsely, trying to fight back tears. “Why don’t you understand that?”

“Because I love you too much to believe that.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were filled with tears. “Come here.” Mark sat up, letting himself be pulled into a hug. “I love you so much.” Kian breathed. “Don’t you ever think I don’t.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m not.” Kian replied. “But I’m frightened you need me so much. I’m scared that I’m not enough to support you when things get bad. But your parents… don’t you know how much they love you? Whenever I saw you together, it was like they wanted to pin a medal on you every time you took another breath. They adore you, and they… they can help.”

“But I need you.” Mark swallowed, knowing Kian was right, no matter how much he didn’t want to believe it. He was falling apart at the seams, a little more every day.

“And I’ll always be there for you.” Kian promised. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Mark whispered.

“You won’t.” Kian smiled, stroking Mark’s cheek, bending in to kiss him. Mark accepted the kiss, feeling as though every moment might be their last, that they should savour it. Kian smiled. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean? You just told me what we were doing.”

Kian laughed, suddenly and loudly, slinging his arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“You do realise this is a relationship, right? You do have some input.”

“Oh yeah.” Mark grinned, leaning against Kian. Despite his worry, it felt as though something had lifted away, something heavy and endless. Kian stroked his shoulder, leaning his head in Mark’s neck. “Dunno.”

Kian snorted a laugh, standing up and grabbing Mark’s car keys off the table. “Come on eejit.”

 

*

 

They drove in silence, both casting surreptitious little glances at each other. Mark felt ill, his stomach turning nervous backflips every few moments.

The house was quiet when he carefully pushed open the door, Kian flanking him. Their hands slipped apart silently, and Mark turned to look at him, shrugging, feeling glad in a bittersweet way. Maybe his parents were out.

“Markus Michael Patrick Feehily!”

Mark winced, biting at his own lips as his mother appeared in the doorway, rage shining in her eyes. Her hands were clenching slowly against her blue jeans, and Mark looked away, unable to face the disappointed glare. Kian was right, their relationship was not nearly the same as it had been six months ago, when he’d talked to her about everything, when she’d trusted every word he’d said and always looked at him with pride in her eyes.

“It’s five thirty! Your dinner's almost on the table, and you’ve only just come home! You’re grounded, young man. What do you think you’re doing, running off so we don’t know where you are? I was about to call the police, I was so worried! Where were you? You...” She trailed off, her lips pursed as she noticed Kian behind Mark’s shoulder. “Kian.” She stated simply. She took a step back. Mark’s dad appeared behind her shoulder.

“Is that…?” His face relaxed in the moment he saw Mark, but hardened in the next. “Where have you been?” He cried. “For god’s sake, we told you…” He glanced at Kian, and looked ready to say something else. Mark cut him off.

“We need to talk to you.” He managed to say. “I’m sorry I was late home, but…”

“Oh lord, you’re bleeding…” His mother whispered. Mark licked his lips, tasting a sudden tang of copper and reaching up to wipe away the little blood. “You’re…” She reached out, taking his hand and pushing back his sleeve, where his arm was still red, spotted with a few scalded blisters. He winced as his sleeve moved against them. He’d hoped they wouldn’t notice. “What are these…?”

“Can we go inside?” Mark asked. “It’s important.”

They both nodded dumbly, stepping back to allow Mark into the house. Kian followed him, close behind. There was never any question of that.

Mark’s parents sat down on the couch, his mam with a look of muted desperation on her face, his dad’s cheeks pink with worry and confusion. They looked at him. Mark felt his throat close, that all-to-familiar feeling that he was the target beginning to niggle at him, making him feel jumpy. Without thinking, he reached out. And grabbed Kian’s hand.

They watched it go, both of them did. And when Mark looked up into their faces, that confusion had deepened, his mother’s mouth hanging open with surprise. His dad was staring at their hands. Mark realised he had to say something.

“I love him.” He explained, squeezing Kian’s hand tighter. “We… we love each other.” He glanced over. Kian was looking at his feet, a little smile on his face. Mark couldn’t help but smile too.

“Oh, son…” His dad whispered. Mark looked away, not really looking forward to what was surely going to be said next. “Why didn’t you tell us?” His father added. Mark blinked, looking up hesitantly.

“I didn’t think you’d…” Mark shook his head. “Like it. Whatever. You know.”

“Oh god, love…” Mark’s mam stood up, and before Mark knew it he was being crushed in the most earnest hug of all time. He couldn’t move or breathe, just stood in shock, unable to believe it when his mam kissed his cheek. “You’re my son. Don’t you know that? No matter what anyone says.” She pulled back, wiping tears from her eyes. “I don’t care if you’re…” She reached up, pushing his hair off his face. “You’re my little boy.”

“Erm… thanks mam…” Mark shuffled his feet, trying to hide his secret pleasure at her words. His body sagged with relief, cheeks filling with a blush. Kian squeezed his hand, and this time when Mark looked over, his boyfriend was grinning. “Dad…?” He asked, looking over at his dad.

“What? You think I’m going to disown you?” His dad snorted. “You’re an eejit if you think I’m that shallow.” Then, before Mark could protest that he didn’t, in fact, think that of his father, his dad was standing up and pulling him into a rather manly hug. It had back-slapping and everything.

He was tempted to stay there, bask in his parents love for a moment, absorb everything he had just heard – god, his legs were still wobbling! – but there was another pressing matter. He remembered it when Kian squeezed his hand and gave him a meaningful nod, Mark having pushed it from his mind.

He made his parents sit down again, and few deep breaths and false-starts later, it all came tumbling out. It was hard going… there were things that had happened that made him flinch to think about them, and more than once he felt whispered voices against his ear, calloused fingers on his hips. But Kian was there every moment, holding his hand, stepping closer when the words wouldn’t come right, filling in the blank spots Mark wouldn’t let himself remember.

By the time he finished, his mother was crying almost hysterically, though her tears had started from about the first five seconds. Dinner was long cold, and his father was pacing stiffly about the living room, his face dark. Mark stepped closer to Kian when he was done. Then, feeling the tears start, fell into a hug, resting his face in Kian’s shoulder and sobbing.

“You did good.” Kian whispered, with a voice that was thick with his own tears. “I’m so proud of you, Marky…”

“I’m calling the police!” His dad cried, stalking into the kitchen. “This isn’t right, these lads getting away with it! It’s disgusting!”

Mark watched him go, not having the energy nor the inclination to stop him. His mother was still crying.

“I think you best go Kian…” She managed. “You’ve done enough.”

To Mark’s horror, Kian nodded.

“No.” Mark sobbed. Kian pulled him closer.

“She’s right.” Kian whispered. “I have. I’ve hurt you enough.”

“No.” Before Mark knew it he was screaming it at his mother’s tearstained face. “No! You can’t make him leave!”

“It’s for the best!” His mam exclaimed, her hands open in front of her, imploring. Mark shook his head, holding Kian’s hand tighter, refusing to let go, even when Kian pulled away.

“No! I love him!” He cried. “Don’t you get it? He’s the only thing that’s got me through this! I can’t… do it… without… him…” He wiped away the tears rolling down his cheek. “I don’t care what you say. If you make him go… then… then I go too.”

“No.” Kian shook his head, squeezing Mark’s hand. “She’s right. I got you into this. We did this because I couldn’t let you hurt anymore. I never did it to save us. I did it to save you.”

“I got myself into this!” Mark argued. “I fell in love with you! I chose to be with you! I chose to stay with you, even through everything that happened. I chose you. Don’t you get that?!” He turned back to face his mother. “Make him go. I dare you. I’ll leave either way, whether he’s with me or not.”

She looked at him. He heard his dad speak in the kitchen.

“Hello… I need to speak to the police please…?”

She looked at Kian. Him, Kian, back again. Emotions flittered across her face, every kind Mark could ever think would exist. Then she wiped her hands on her knees and stood up.

“Are you staying for dinner, Kian?”

They both stared at her, mouths gaping. She shook her head, heading into the kitchen.

“I’ll warm up dinner. You both still like pork chops, right?”

Mark turned, burying his face in Kian’s shoulder once she was out of sight. He could hear his dad still talking on the phone, could hear his mother, bustling about, crying again, though her tears didn’t seem nearly as wretched as before. Kian put a hand on his back, kissing his cheek.

“You ready for what comes next?”

Mark shrugged. “You’re here, aren’t you?” He smiled, feeling the lightest he had in months, only held down from floating by Kian’s arms around his waist. Kian smiled.

“Forever and ever.”


End file.
